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Memoirs 

of a 

Contemporary 

Being Reminiscences by Ida Saint-Elme, Adventuress, of her 

Acquaintance with Certain Makers of French History, 

and of her Opinions Concerning them. 

From 1790 to 181 5. 

Translated by Lionel Strachey 
1IIIu6trate^ 




New York 

Doubleday, Page & Company 

iq02 



Ti■>^ LISRARY OF 
T.vo Copifet REOsivec 

v'^ ;:: 1902 

Or)eVflioHT ENTBV 

C i.-;:^?. tVyxo No., 

COPY 8. 



Copyright, 1902, by 

DOUBLBDAY, PaGB & COMPANY 

Published September, 1902 



CONTENTS 



Chapter I. "°'' 
The Authoress' Descent — Her Birth and Child- 
hood — Early Amazonian Accomplishments — Mar- 
riage at the Age of Twelve with van M His 

Political Affiliations — Removal to France — Cap- 
tain Marescot's Admiration — Which Evokes Re- 
sponse — The First Downward Step — Departure for 
Paris — Van M Joins the Army — The " Contem- 
porary" Dons Male Attire — and Witnesses the 
Battle of Valmy — Return to Holland — Attentions 
from General Grouchy i 

Chapter II: 

French Invasion op Holland — ^Amsterdam Sur- 
renders to Pichegru — Attack Upon the Dutch Fleet 
by Cavalry and Artillery — Pichegru's Insincerity — 
Moreau and Maria — Pichegru a Political Intriguer — 
The "Contemporary" first Hears of Ney — News of 
Marescot — Van M Learns of His Wife's Rela- 
tions with Marescot — Van M Forgives Her — 

Which Angers Her — She Runs away from Him . i $ 

Chapter III. 

Arrival in Utrecht— Interview with Grouchy — 
and with Moreau — Intimacy with Moreau Begins — 
His Simplicity and Sense of Justice — Campaigning 



CONTENTS 

in Men's Clothes once more — Pichegru's Treachery 
— In Paris with Moreau — A House Purchased in 
Passy — Collision with Mme. Tallien's Carriage — 
Visits to Mme. Tallien and Drives with Her : : 27 

Chapter IV. 

MoREAU Appointed Inspector-General of the 
Army IN Italy — The "Contemporary" Goes with 
Him to Milan — The Casa Faguani — Enthusiasm of 
Milanese Society for "Madame Moreau" — The Na- 
ture of Her Regard for the General — Spies of the 
Directory — A Dining-room Comedy of Vengeance — 
Moreau's Desire to Marry Ida — Moreau and Ney 
Contrasted — All Women Ordered to Leave the 
Army — Moreau offers to Resign his Career — Ida 
Meets old Friends in Lyons — Moreau's Military 
Successes in 1799 39 

Chapter V. 

Visit to Mlle. Contat — Her Dramatic Roles — De- 
parture from Lyons — M. De La Rue, the Banker — 
Talleyrand's Indebtedness — His Indifference to 
Perjury — Talleyrand and the Inquisitive Coach- 
man — His Exile — Carnot Prefers Satan to Him — 
Audience Granted to Ida — Moonlight Walk with 
Mme. Tallien — Ney's Exploit at Mannheim — Ida 
Writes an Ardent Letter to Him and a Cold One to 
Moreau — and Misdirects the Envelopes — The Re- 
sult 55 

Chapter VI. 

Beaumarchais — Attempted Suppression of the 
"Marriage of Figaro" — The Seven of Diamonds — 
Beaumarchais as a Humorist in Real Life — Dra- 
matic Aspirations of the "Contemporary" — Mor- 



CONTENTS 

eau's Disapproval of Them — First Impressions of 
Bonaparte — The Conspiracy of the i8th of Bru- 
maire — The New Constitution and the Consuls — 
Moreau Marries a Friend of Josephine de Beauhar- 
nais — A Pair of Shrews .69 

Chapter VII. 

Power of the Bankers and Army Contractors — 
Their Intrigues — Opulence of the Banker Ouvrard — 
Festivities at His Estate — A Symposium of Beauty 
and Brains — Bonaparte's Contempt for Money — 
Fashionable Dressing Under the Directory — Lucien 
Bonaparte, Minister of Home Affairs — Chaptal, his 
Successor — Impudent M. De Montmorency — The 
Authoress' Fiasco on the Stage of the Theatre- 
Frangais ........ 83 

Chapter VIII; 

Ney's Private Correspondence During the 
Campaigns of 1800 — Moreau's Dislike for Ney — 
Further Theatrical Venture in the Provinces — 
Death of Kleber — His Caustic Notes upon Bona- 
parte — Reminiscence of Valmy — Death of Van 

M A Theatrical Company in Pawn — Moreau's 

Hostility to the First Consul — Bernadotte and the 
"Butter-pot Conspiracy" — Fouchd Prevents a 
Duel Between Bonaparte and Moreau ... -95 

Chapter IX. 

Last Meeting with Moreau — He Goes to Amer- 
ica after the Cadoudal Plot — Beginning of Intimate 
Relations with Ney — Characteristics of Talleyrand 
— Thousand Franc Bank-notes as Curl-papers — 
Talleyrand's Stupid Wife — Napoleon Crowned King 
of Italy — The "Contemporary" at Milan— "Fama 

vii 



CONTENTS 

Volat" — Amorous Episode with Napoleon — His 
Way with Women . . . . . * 109 

Chapter X: 

Journey to Innsbruck — Meeting there with Ney — 
Gardane; Governor of the Pages — Dery," a Chival- 
rous Escort — The Campaign of 1806 — The Battle of 
Eylau — In which the "Contemporary'! Rides in a 
Cavalry Charge — And is Wounded — Interview with 
Ney after the Battle — Its Cost to France — The 
"Red Lion" — Return to Paris . . . .123 

Chapter XI. 

Junot's Incipient Madness — Napoleon's Sisters 
on Thrones — Description of Elisa Bacciochi, Grand 
Duchess of Tuscany — Ida's Appointment to Her 
Court — Rebelliousness of the Tuscans Against 
French Authority — A Soldier-Sultan — The Author- 
ess' Functions at Court — The Hainguerlots, a Fash- 
ionable Pair — Prince Bacciochi his Wife's Loyal 
Subject — "The Little Napoleon" — Audience with 
Queen Caroline of Naples — Royal Frocks,' Frills, 
and Small Talk — Murat as an Amateur Tragedian — 
His Theatrical Bravery . ; . . -135 

Chapter XII; 

The Fatal Russian Expedition — ^Journey to 
Moscow with Nidia — The French Theatre at Mos- 
cow — Burning of the City by the Russians — A 
Scene of Devastation and Pillage — Unscrupulous 
Looting by the French Troops — Difficulties in Pas- 
ing the Dnieper — Nidia and Ida Shoot some Cos- 
sacks — Privations of Women During the Retreat — 
And Worse — The Breaking Down of the Beresina 
Bridge — ^A Heartrending Episode — The Last of 

viii 



CONTENTS 

Nidia— The " Bravest of the Brave '.!— Did he Beat 

the "Contemporary!.'? . ; . . . 147 

Chapter XIIL' 

Journey to Styria — Louis Bonaparte; King; 
NoveHst, Poet and Philanthropist — Meeting with 
Ney in the Champs Elysees — A Private Bachelor's 
Breakfast with the Marshal — His Tirade against 
Royalist Intriguers and Flunkey Politicians — A 
Glimpse at Napoleon's Plebeian Mother — Commer- 
cial Depression at the French Metropolis in 18 14 — 
The Lower Classes Regard Napoleon as the Symbol 
of the Revolution — Another Campaigning Expedi- 
tion in Men's Clothes — Elation in Paris over French 
Victories — While the Allies are Marching upon the 
Capital 159 

Chapter XIV.' 

The Capital in Danger — Marie-Louise and the 
King of Rome leave the Tuileries — King Joseph's 
Hopeful Proclamation — The Battle of Paris — 
Marshal Moncey's Gallant Defence — Capitulation — 
"Our Good Friends the Enemies" — Napoleon Sur- 
rounded by the Allies at Fontainebleau — He At- 
tempts Suicide — Signs the Treaty of Abdication — 
Farewell to His Soldiers in the Courtyard at Fon- 
tainebleau — Ida's Resentment Against Ney for 
Advising the Abdication . . ■ . . -171 

Chapter XV. 

Lazare Carnot; a Real Republican — And an 
Upright Man — And a Patriotic Citizen — He Com- 
pares Napoleon with Caesar and Washington — A 
Political Breakfast Party — At which the "Con- 
temporary" is Given a Secret Mission — Her Jour- 

ix 



CONTENTS 

ney to Elba — Reminiscences, by the way, of Napo- 
leon's Journey Thither — How He Escaped Hanging 
— The Ex-Emperor's Activity as a Landlord — He 
tells the Authoress of His Dream of a Mediterra- 
nean Kingdom — His Status in Exile as a Sovereign 
— Officials of His Court in Elba . . . .183 

Chapter XVI. 

Ida's Friendship with General Quesnel — His 
Mysterious Assassination — Napoleon sets Foot in 
France Again — Ney's Inconsistency Excused — His 
Defection from the Anti-Napoleon Party — Rejoic- 
ings at Lons Le Saulnier over the Emperor's Return 
— Ney's Meeting with Napoleon — The Marshal 
Explains His Change of Heart — The Ovation at the 
Tuileries 195 

Chapter XVII: 

The New Cabinet — Fouch^'s Treachery — Camot 
Made Minister of Interior — His Noble Motives for 
Accepting the Portfolio — Fouch^'s Diverting Views 
as to the Functions of the Police — His "Modera- 
tion " — A Private Breakfast with Ney in the Champs 
Elys^es — Regnault's Apprehension — Hopes of an 
Alliance with Austria — Political Unrest in Paris — 
Particulars of the New Constitution — The Grand 
Ceremony of Its Promulgation — Comments and 
Criticisms — Napoleon once more Girds His Loins 
for War — Enthusiasm of the Army — The Capital's 
Fortifications are Strengthened . . . .207 

Chapter XVIII. 

The Last Campaign — Ida follows Ney to Waterloo 
— His Heroism in the Battle — Calmness of Napoleon 
— The Retreat — Camilla, Another Military Woman 



CONTENTS 

— Is Wounded and taken Care of by the Authoress — 
The Return to Paris — Carnot's Irrational Hopeful- 
ness — He Resists Napoleon's Dethronement Single- 
handed — The "Contemporary's" Last Interview 
with Ney — Camilla's Recovery and Disappearance 221 

Chapter XIX. 

Banishment of Carnot — Ney's Intended Depar- 
ture to the United States — He is Arrested at Bes- 
sonis — His Chivalrous Refusal to Attempt Escape 
— A Plot to Rescue Him — The Court-Martial De- 
clares Itself an Incompetent Tribunal — Ney is Tried 
Before the House of Peers — Condemned — And 
Shot — Ida sees Him Going to His Execution — Her 
Vow of Amendment at His Bier — Conclusion . .229 



» 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 



Ida Saint -Elme (la " Contemporaine ") in 1828 . . . Frontispiece "^ 
From a rare lithograph 

FACING PAGE 

Amsterdam Towards the Zuyder Zee 3 

From an old print 

Brussels 8 ' 

General Kellermann 11 

Drawn by Bomteville and engraved by Claesens 

General Grouchy 13 . 

From Rouillard's painting {Historical Gallery of Versailles) 

General Pichegru 17 

A drawiftg from Steuben''s oil portrait {Historical Gallery 
of Versailles) 

General Victor Moreau 21 

From a paintitig at Versailles 

Utrecht 37 " 

Facsimile of an old Ettglish print 

Stage Coach of the Napoleonic Era 29 "" 

Madame Tallien 35 

From an engraving by Leguay 

Bernadotte, King of Sweden 40 

Engraved by Portman 

General Joubert 5* 

Engraved after the portrait by Bouchot 

Mademoiselle Contat, the actress 57 

From an old French print 

Maurice de Talleyrand, the "Abbe Maurice de Perigord " . . 63 

Barras 66 

Engraved from a drawing by Raffet 

Pierre Auguste de Beaumarchais . . . 70 

xiii 



xiv LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

FACING PAGB 

Cambaceres, Second Consul 78 

Fro7n an engraving by Bonneville 

Lebrun, Third Consul 79 

Drawn by Lacauchie, engraved by Monin 

Elizabeth, Lady Holland 86 

Lucien Bonaparte 90 

General Kleber 100 

F'rom an oil portrait by Ansian 

Marshal Ney 113 

Prom the painting by Langlois 

"The Contemporary " during the Campaign of 1S06 . . . 126 

General Junot, Duke d'Abrantes ° . 135 

From the painting by Raver at 

Pauline Bonaparte, Prince Borghese 137 

From the engraving by Madame Fotirnier 

Princess Elisa Bacchiochi, Sister of Napoleon .... 139 

Caroline Murat, Queen of Naples, Sister of Napoleon . . . 142 

From an engraving by Hopwood 

Joachim Murat, King of Naples 145 

Reproduction of an old London print 

Burning of Moscow in 1 81 2 151 

From a rare old French engraving 

Louis Bonaparte, King of Holland 159 

Fouche, Duke d'Otranto 163 

Engraved by Wolff after Girardcfs drawing 

Letitia Bonaparte, Mother of Napoleon 165 

The King of Rome, Napoleon's son 173 

Engraved by Dossebnann 

Joseph Bonaparte, King of Spain 176 

Napoleon bidding his soldiers farewell at Fontainebleau before 

going to Elba 180 

Lazare Camot .......... 186 

Marshal Cambronne 193 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS xv 

PACING FAGB 

Regnault de Saint- Jean-d'Angely 199 

Count Caulaincourt • . . 207 

Madame de Stael 215 

From an oil painting in a private collection 

Cambronne at Waterloo • 223 

Ida Saint -Elme, (the " Contemporary ") • 228 

General Augereau 232 

After Po7-tmai^s etigraving 

Marshal Moncey, Duke de Conegliano 233 



CHAPTER I 

THE AUTHORESS ' DESCENT HER BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD — 

EARLY AMAZONIAN ACCOMPLISHMENTS — MARRIAGE AT 

THE AGE OF TWELVE WITH VAN M HIS POLITICAL 

AFFILIATIONS — REMOVED TO FRANCE — CAPTAIN MARE- 

SCOT's ADMIRATION WHICH EVOKES RESPONSE — 

THE FIRST DOWNWARD STEP — DEPARTURE FOR PARIS 

VAN M JOINS THE ARMY THE "CONTEMPORARY" 

DONS MALE ATTIRE — AND WITNESSES THE BATTLE OF 

VALMY RETURN TO HOLLAND ATTENTIONS FROM 

GENERAL GROUCHY. 

I AM a daughter of Count Leopold Ferdinand Tolstoy, 
who was bom in 1749 at the castle of Werbom, on 
the seigneurial estate of Krustova, in Hungary. Him- 
self was a son of Samuel Leopold de Tolstoy, Duke of 
Cremnitz, and of Catherine Vevoy, Countess Thuroz. 
My grandmother was the mother of the Polish starost 
Beniowski, Upon the decease of my grandfather, 
whose widow soon followed him to the grave, my father 
took arms in the Austrian service with his uncle Beniow- 
ski, he having attached himself to the fortunes of Arch- 
duke Charles of Lorraine. My father was then nineteen 
years of age. Outraged, however, at the unjust treat- 
ment to which he was subjected, he made his way to Russia 
where he was soon joined by Beniowski, and where this 

I 



2 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

nobleman was honoured with an exalted charge by the 
Empress. Beniowski did his utmost to bring about a 
match between his nephew and a very rich Russian lady 
of great family. But my father's heart became en- 
gaged in another quarter. He eloped with the daughter 
of the governor of Pressburg, Ida Kornewitz, fleeing 
with her across the Russian border. 

My father's only patrimony was his ancestral name 
of Tolstoy, which was one of great renown. He offered 
it to his lady-love. But Ida refused to allow him to 
make this sacrifice. Only for a brief moment did she 
surrender to the embraces of the youth for whom she 
had relinquished home and country, but whose future 
she would not consent to prejudice. Tearing herself 
away from the illusions of love, she separated from the 
world forever, and devoted the remainder of her days 
to the service of God. Leopold, unable to shake her 
resolve, escorted her to the abbey of Novgorod. He 
then returned to Saint Petersburg, where his uncle Beni- 
owski lavished a truly paternal affection upon him. 

Resuming the plans of marriage he had entertained 
for his nephew's benefit, he tried to persuade him to take 
the hand of the only daughter of Count Penski, whose 
dowry would amount to a million roubles. Leopold's 
only condition was that he should first make the ac- 
quaintance of the lady whose happiness was to be en- 
trusted to him. An interview was arranged. But at 
the sight of the ungainly figure and very uncomely face 
of the countess, who was to be his wife, the heir of the 
Tolstoys manifested a decided repugnance to the pros- 
pective marriage. The young lady was too ugly. Neither 
entreaties, threats, nor anything availed to influence 
my father's inflexible will, and in order to escape in- 
carceration he was obliged to make a rapid flight. From 
Saint Petersburg he betook himself to Dantsic, where 
he embarked for Hamburg. From Hamburg he went 




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MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 3 

to Amsterdam, finally reaching The Hague in 1774. 
Here his name opened the doors of the Dutch nobility 
to him, and the stadholder's court as well. 

My father was then twenty-five years old. His tall, 
shapely figure, the picturesque Hungarian dress to which 
he always remained faithful, his ardent gaze, the beauty 
of his features, and the qualities of his mind and heart 
were easily sufficient to account for the violent passion 
soon conceived for him by a daughter of one of the oldest 
and wealthiest of Holland's noble houses, which passion 
was returned by the handsome foreigner. 

My mother, then eighteen years of age and an orphan, 
had been endowed with great beauty by nature. The 
highest and most complete sort of education had devel- 
oped her mentally and brought out her finest moral 
traits. She was heiress to an income of sixteen hundred 
thousand florins, to be left her by an old maiden-aunt, 
who, however, imposed a certain condition. In the 
event of her niece marrying, the husband must change 
his name to his wife's. Otherwise Mademoiselle van 
Aylde Jonghe would forfeit all claim to the succession, 
and the entire legacy would go to charitable institutions. 

Count Tolstoy was far too deeply enamoured of the 
lady to hesitate between the happiness to be derived 
from the union and mere considerations of family pride. 
He therefore resigned the illustrious name of his fore- 
fathers to assume the other. 

Reasons of health induced the young couple to leave 
the foggy climate of Holland for the sunny skies of Italy. 
Thus it was in Tuscany that I first saw the light of day, 
in one of the most charming districts of the Arno, on the 
26th of September, 1778, 

I learnt to speak the French, Dutch, and Italian 
languages at the same time. I made rapid progress in 
them all as I grew up. My father, besides, established a 
riding ring, a fencing floor, and a tennis court on his 



4 MEMOIRS OP A CONTEMPORARY 

property, I was barely six when I went for wild gallops 
on my Hungarian pony, with my parents on either side 
closely watching me. My father also gave me instruc- 
tions in fencing, and was very proud of the skill I showed 
in that art. The day I matriculated, amid the plaudits 
of all our friends, assembled for the auspicious event, 
my joy knew no bounds. With my pad still on my 
body and my gauntlets on my hands, and flourishing 
my foil, my heart beat terribly fast when my mother 
took off my mask to kiss me. I threw myself into her 
arms bursting into tears. 

I was but nine when, cruel fate depriving us of our 
fortune through a crisis in the East Indies, we returned 
to Holland. Soon after this my father died. Two 
years went by before my mother had overcome her 
grief enough to attend to her daughter's further educa- 
tion. But little Elzelina — this was my name — was 
happily constituted. My mind, tired of idleness, began 
to roam in quest of new sensations. It was easy enough 
to find them. My mother, full of confidence in the 
prudence and discretion of her precocious child, saw 
nothing improper in allowing me to take long rides about 
the estate where we lived. I must hasten to add that 
although I was only eleven years old, I was big enough 
to pass for fourteen. In face and figure I was almost a 
woman. But as far as sense went I was still an infant. 

A year later I was a wife. My marriage was attended 
by somewhat romantic circumstances. 

Every morning I used to go out on horseback, ac- 
companied by our old groom, William. One day, in the 
course of my ride, I met a very agreeable young man. 
He bowed and spoke to me, I learnt that his name 

was M. van M , and that he was the son of a wealthy 

landowner of that neighbourhood. For several days 
we continued to meet in the same manner. My mother 
raising objections, I ceased from meeting M. van M 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 5 

on horse-back, but granted him appointments, twice a 
week, in a little arbour, at the bottom of the garden, 
without my mother's knowledge. At these innocent 
trysts I gave my new friend lessons in Italian, and ex- 
tended my own knowledge of Dutch through conversa- 
tions with him in that language. However, M. van 

M soon conceived a strong, deep, and sincere passion 

for me, of the kind peculiar to his nation. He was then 
twenty-three, and his intentions were honourable. Be- 
fore long he acquainted me with his resolve to ask my 
mother for my hand in marriage. I had never thought 
of marriage, the indissoluble tie which, according to 
the church, only death can sever. At the age of twelve 
life seems so very long ! I entertained some doubts on 
the subject at first, and felt tempted to decline, but my 

vanity was flattered; I liked M. van M very well, 

and gave him permission to apply to my mother. 

She, although looking upon my suitor very favour- 
ably, was opposed to the match because of my extreme 
youth. The young man's father, on his side, categoric- 
ally forbade the union on account of the disparity in 
our fortunes. Hereupon my friend suggested that we 
should elope to Gelderland, where a Protestant minister 
could easily be found who would marry us. I consented, 
quite proud of being run away with like a grown up 
person. The plot succeeded, but alas ! the very evening 

of our flight my lover's father caught us ! M van M 

persistently reiterated his firm intention of marrying me, 
declaring that I had entrusted myself to his honour. 
Nobody should separate us, he said, nor should prevent 
us from becoming man and wife. His father finally 
yielded upon condition that I should remain in my 
mother's care until the day of the wedding. So I re- 
turned, and after all formalities had been fulfilled, was 
married in the new house of worship of the Reformed 
Church, at Amsterdam. 



6 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

I was under thirteen, but my figure was already fully 
developed, so that I looked at least sixteen. I am now 
no larger than I was then, and in fact have not grown 
since my marriage. But unfortunately my brain was 
very far from being mature. I required a firmer and 
sterner guide than the husband to whom the law and 
my own consent had bound me for all time. Why did 
he trust so blindly in the wisdom and circumspection 
of a child? Had he not done so, I should not now be 
regretting the misfortunes and mistakes of more than 
twenty-five years. 

The first six months went by to the complete happiness 
of us both. The travelling for pleasure which according 
to the Dutch custom is the sequel to every marriage was 
over, and we were settling down to a quiet domestic 
life when rumours of war and the news of the revolution 
spreading in France turned our thoughts in another 
direction. The revolutionary turmoil was agitating 
Belgium as well as France. My husband had large 
estates in Belgium, and was one of the opponents of the 
royalist party in Holland. Nothing more natural, there- 
fore, than for him to ardently espouse the principles 
enounced in the Declaration of the Rights of Man. He 
did his utmost to make me share his views and to kindle 
his own enthusiasm in me. I was easily converted, 

for I had no decided political opinions. Van M 

spoke to me of love of country and of the blessings of 
liberty which were soon to be the heritage of all nations. 
His warm, convincing language quickly aroused the 
same sentiments in my receptive bosom that were glow- 
ing in his. 

While my husband was shut up in his study with long 
despatches brought by frequent messengers, I would go 
for considerable rides on horseback, or else would in- 
dulge my taste for reading, or would write letters to 
my mother. This manner of living suited me. When- 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 7 

ever I felt in a mood for love-making I would go to my 
husband in his study. I would scold him for neglecting 
me. I would even pretend to doubt his love. He 
always succeeded in justifying himself very readily, and 
our little arguments would end in a way that speedily 
drew us as close together as ever in the bonds of mutual 
attachment. 

One evening, as we were sitting in a pavilion on our 
estate which was near the roadside, we were surprised 
by the sudden appearance of M. van Daulen, one of my 

husband's most intimate friends. Van M had a 

long talk with him, at the end of which he informed me 
that next morning we should leave the country, only 
to return with the future liberators of Holland, the 
soldiers of the French Republic. The journey upon 
which I was about to set forth, and the importance it 
gave me in my own eyes as to the events in which my 
husband would no doubt play a great part, all this ex- 
cited my imagination. I at once began to pregare for 
our departure. All was in readiness that same night, 
and early the next morning we left in a post-chaise. 

A relative of my husband, General Daendels, was 
serving with the French colours, and it was him we were 

to join. Van M owned large estates in the vicinity 

of Brussels, on the road to Antwerp, so that I soon found 
myself comfortably established in a fine country mansion 
near the gates of the Belgian capital. 

Upon this estate we spent two months. We received 
visits from a number of young men who were friends of 
my husband, and who were as enthusiastic in favour of 
the French Revolution as himself. In spite of his youth 

van M was held in high esteem in society. He 

owed this less to his immense wealth than to his personal 
qualities, to the devotion he showed for his country, to 
the single-hearted liberality with which he gave his 
fortune to the cause he believed in. Some of the most 



8 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

agreeable men of our circle tried to captivate me, but 
they one and all failed. I have never been attracted 
except by superior worth, and when I looked about me 
at this time I saw no one of eminent moral attributes. 
My heart therefore remained free. 

Towards the end of August, 1792, we left our house 
near Brussels and started for Lille. My husband pro- 
posed to stay for some time in that town in order to 
gather information there as to the cause of events before 
penetrating further into France. In Lille preparations 
were going forward to resist the siege which threatened 
that town. It actually occurred soon after our departure, 
and redounded greatly to the credit of the inhabitants. 
At first we were not able to find access to the place at all. 
We were obliged to take lodgings at an inn on the out- 
skirts of one of the suburbs. General Daendels, a cousin 
of my husband, came to visit us in our modest abode 
as soon as he was apprised of our arrival. He was ac- 
companied by several French officers. I will mention 
one only, young Marescot, an engineer officer, who later 
on became a lieutenant-general and a member of the 
Institute of France. M. de Marescot had a prepossessing 
exterior, and appeared to be gifted with the qualities 
that usually evoke respect or interest. During the 
whole length of our relative's visit the officers with him 
frequently turned unmistakable looks of admiration 
upon me. But I singled out Marescot from among them 
all. 

My husband's fortune and rank, his determination to 
forsake his coimtry rather than abjure his political 
opinion, my youthfulness, and my personal appearance, 
made us the subject of much attention and curiosity. 
We were very soon given a proof of the sympathy we 
inspired by the eagerness with which some French offi- 
cers exerted themselves to find us lodgings in the 
centre of the town and to escort us there them- 




THE TOWN HALL. BRUSSELS 

{From ail Old German Pritit) 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 9 

selves. In a few days every house in Lille was 
open to us. My husband's activity in the cause of 
liberty in the Netherlands brought him into daily 
contact with the officers of the French army. The 
result was that I was perpetually meeting Marescot. 
He was then but a plain captain, but owing to his proved 
talents, his bravery, and his amiable disposition he was 
just as highly considered as other officers who were older, 
or were his superiors in military rank, I must confess 
that I felt embarrassed and abashed in his presence, 
and that at the same time I experienced sensations of 
mingled pleasure and uneasiness. I was always glad to 
see him, but nevertheless the anticipation would always 
give me a feeling of trepidation. 

A great public festivity took place to which my hus- 
band and I were invited. I was the cynosure of all 
eyes and the centre of attraction, but in the midst of all 
the compliments and the flattery, I could not conceal 
the fact that I was impressed only by the homage of 
him whom my heart had chosen. Thenceforth a secret 
understanding was established between myself and Mare- 
scot, which progressed very rapidly, and which I at first in- 
nocently believed was founded vipon ordinary good feeHng. 
I was scarcely fifteen years old. I was far from my 
mother's care. My husband exercised no control whatever 
over my conduct. I was too yoimg to be without any 
guides but my own judgment and my inexperienced heart. 

Thus, lulled in safety, I was really hastening towards 
destruction. The uncertainty of the future, the pain 
of the separation, — that I already dreaded, — and the 
fear of some day hearing of his death in battle, drew me 
more and more to him in whom I at last became com- 
pletely infatuated. I was deeply in love with him 
before I knew whether it was love or not. When I 
realized the true state of affairs it was too late to go 
back. The fatal step was already taken. 



lO 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 



Marescot at length went away leaving me with grief 
and remorse for companions. 

The French troops were gaining victories everywhere. 

Van M and General Daendels being charged with 

an important mission, we left suddenly for Paris. But 
in the world of the great capital I was no more able to 
enjoy peace and happiness than I had been at Lille after 
Marescot's departure. I saw all the celebrities of the 
day; I was received in circles where Revolutionary 
equality often vied in ostentation with the old aristoc- 
racy. But there was nothing to please me in these gath- 
erings. The men showed that they were rude and un- 
educated; their compliments were coarse; the addresses 
they paid me were for the most part unendurable. I 
gratified as far as I could my inclination for a solitary 
life in the large mansion we were occupying in the Rue 
de Bourbon, whose garden, touching upon the quay, 
was a delightful sojourn. Ever since Marescot had left 
me I had never been able to recover my tranquillity of 
mind or my peace of heart. I would shed tears all day. 
I deeply repented my fault while ravished at the receipt 
of the rare letters written by my friend from headquarters. 

There was no friend whom I might have confided in 
and asked for counsel. Neglected by my husband, who 
gave himself up entirely to public affairs, I could not but 
comipare his coldness with the impassioned tenderness that 
burned in Marescot's letters. I thought of nothing but 
the happy day which would bring my friend back to 
me. 

The most disastrous news now reached Paris in quick 
succession; the entrance into France of the Prussians, 
unlucky engagements, the reduction of Longwy, the 
capitulation of Verdun, and the voluntary death of the 
valiant commandant of that fortress. My husband 
left the capital to join the army with General Dumouriez, 
and I decided to share my husband's perils in the war 



MEMOIRS OP A CONTEMPORARY ii 

for which he had volunteered. I put aside the garments 
of my sex, and assumed the dress of a man. I witnessed 
the battle of Valmy from close quarters. At seven o'clock 
in the morning, as soon as the fog was dissipated, the 
Prussians deployed along the heights of la Lune, their 
cavalry taking the Chalons road, fifty or sixty cannon 
being massed in front. The French and Prussian artil- 
lery exchanged intermittent volleys. During the 
morning two of our powder waggons exploded, which 
gave rise to some momentary confusion. About noon 
the enemy grouped his infantry in three close columns, 
and threatened an attack upon Valmy. This movement 
was executed with remarkable precision. General Keller- 
mann's troops then also formed in three columns, al- 
though in a less orderly manner than the Prussians. 
General Beurnonville advanced to support the troops in 
Valmy. Shouts of "Long live the nation!" rang along 
the whole line. The soldiers were fired with enthusiasm. 
This shouting and a brisk cannonade made the enemy 
apprehensive, and they thereupon retired in good order. 
I was so fortunate as to be present on that memorable 
day, which French history celebrates as the battle of 
Valmy, the first exploit of the Republican army. If 
the inferiority in number of the French indicated the 
chance of a reverse, the courage and skill of their leaders 
promised them victory. General Kellermann is still 
before my eyes, waving his hat on the point of his sword, 
and giving orders for a bayonet charge upon the Prus- 
sians. 

A serious illness of my mother unexpectedly called me 
back to Holland. I spent three months at the pillow 
of the dear invalid. Her recovery was long, but she 
finally was restored to health. Afterwards I remained 
with her for a part of the year 1793. We lived on a great 
estate surrounded by an immense park in the neighbour- 
hood of the town of Leyden. The life I led here, buried 



12 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

in the country, was singularly monotonous compared to 
the exciting events of the previous year. My husband 
remained away and wrote frequently. I received news 
from Marescot at rare intervals only, because of the un- 
certainty of the postal service in war time, and the 
movements of the armies. It was known in Holland 
that I had gone to the war in men's clothes, and since 
my arrival in Leyden I had become the object of uni- 
versal curiosity and gossip. The partisans of the stad- 
holder spoke of me only in tones of indignation or pro- 
found contempt. I did not allow their opinions or their 
talk to affect me in the very least. But my mother, 
who was a faithful adherent of the court party, took it 
all very much to heart. In order to rescue me from 
what she supposed must give me great mortification, 
she proposed to leave Leyden and to repair to an estate 
she owned near Wardenburg. This was equivalent to 
an opportunity of being near the centre of war, and 
consequently in touch with the French army. I ac- 
ceded to the proposition with ill-dissembled joy. But 
in our new abiding place three months went by very 
drearily. I wrote to Marescot. My letter remained 
unanswered. After two more months I believed myself 
forgotten. I shed many tears, and after giving full 
vent to my grief, I, in my turn, began to forget. 

We would sometimes go out walking, visiting the poor, 
and giving them alms. At all hands blessings were 
invoked upon my mother and her young son, the Baron 
van Aylde Jonghe — ^by which name I usually passed. 
Thanks to my tall figure and my good looks, I was able 
to play the part of a handsome young man. My short 
curly hair, my large blue eyes, and my fresh complexion 
won me many admiring glances from the women, which 
afforded my mother and myself great amusement. 

Several months elapsed before my husband summoned 
me to join him. He finally wrote for me to come to 




GENERAL GROUCHY 

{From Roninard's Painting, Hisiorica! Gallery of Versailles) 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 13 

Breda. On the way I met with the French army. My 
heart beat violently. Early in January, 1795, I reached 
Amsterdam in a magnificent sledge in the midst of a 
veritable staff of officers, and escorted by whole regiments 
to the music of military bands and the sound of cannon. 
The stadholder had taken ship at Scheveningen. The 
States-General had issued orders to the military com- 
mandants of all the towns to see to the reception and 
quartering of the French troops. 

Among the French officers who were regular frequenters 
of our house General Grouchy was one of the most as- 
siduous. The compliments he paid me flattered my 
vanity, M. de Grouchy then looked no more than about 
twenty-six or twenty-seven years old. At first sight 
his face was not remarkably interesting, and he was a 
man of ordinary size. But his urbanity and his graceful 
manners made him most agreeable. The Republican 
general maintained all the distinction of a courtier of 
Versailles, I have known few men so engaging as he 
when he wished to be so. 

Engrossed more than ever in public affairs, my hus- 
band allowed me a very dangerous degree of liberty. 
Our house was always full of French officers: I never 
went out on horseback without a retinue of an entire 
military staff. General Grouchy was my companion 
at all routs and balls, and at the theatre. My careless- 
ness was the subject of general remark, and my conduct 
was such as to merit the censure which I foolishly 
ignored. 



CHAPTER II 

FRENCH INVASION OF HOLLAND — AMSTERDAM SURREND- 
ERS TO PICHEGRU — ATTACK UPON THE DUTCH FLEET 
BY CAVALRY AND ARTILLERY — PICHEGRU 'S INSINCER- 
ITY — MOREAU AND MARIA — PICHEGRU A POLITICAL 
INTRIGUER — THE "CONTEMPORARY" FIRST HEARS OF 

NEY — NEWS OF MARESCOT — VAN M LEARNS OF 

HIS WIFE 'S RELATIONS WITH MARESCOT — VAN M 

FORGIVES HER — WHICH ANGERS HER — SHE RUNS 
AWAY FROM HIM. 

Thus time went by in the most agreeable manner in the 
world. But after a few weeks had elapsed I was obliged 
to go to Bois-le-Duc to see my family. Generals Grouchy 
and Dessoles went with us as far as Utrecht. There they 
took another road, and I did not see them for a long 
time afterwards. 

A hard winter was requisite to make the invasion of 
Holland a success, for Pichegru looked upon the invasion 
of this country of dykes and canals as impossible in 
ordinary weather. The inhabitants of Dutch Brabant 
were so fully convinced of this themselves that when 
the French boasted they would soon be sailing upon the 
Zuyderzee they said: "If you come we will drown you, 
you Frenchmen, and none of you will ever see his coimtry 
again !" 

In order then, that the campaign should be practicable 
the ice must be thick enough to bear the weight of can- 

15 



i6 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

non. At the end of December, 1794, the thermometer 
went down to seventeen degrees befow zero, and this 
was the signal for Pichegru's army, which was wretchedly 
provisioned and not even sufficiently clothed. It was 
an extraordinary campaign. One cannot but be struck 
by the general's audacious spirit of enterprise, but the 
heroism of his poorly fed and ill-clad army, which cheer- 
fully endured the greatest hardships, must also evoke 
warm admiration. In less than two months the whole 
of Holland was brought under subjection. Regiments 
of infantry, field batteries, and cavalry squadrons crossed 
rivers and bays with such extraordinary rapidity that 
the commissioners of the Convention were hardly able 
to keep up with the troops. The day he began to invest 
Utrecht, Pichegru wrote to three of these representatives 
to hasten their movements: "Do not lose a moment, 
Citizen Representatives, to-morrow we shall take 
Utrecht." The representatives, indeed, arrived on the 
19th of January and the same day received a deputa- 
tion from the province of Holland authorized to treat 
with them as to the particulars of surrender. 

The next day, the 20th of January, 1795, Pichegru, 
still accompanied by the representatives, entered Am- 
sterdam, and took possession of the city in the name of 
the French Republic. The French were welcomed by 
the great majority of the people in our country as libera- 
tors and were not regarded as enemies, which was not 
surprising, since the Dutch had already before attempted 
to shake off the yoke of the stadholder. The day of 
the entry of the French into Amsterdam the stock ex- 
change of the city was open as usual. There was no 
interruption in the operations of commerce, and liabili- 
ties were met with the usual promptitude. The con- 
quest of Amsterdam was at once followed by the sub- 
mission of the remainder of the United Provinces. A 
fortnight later the individual States of Zealand had 




GENERAL PICHEGRU 

(Drawn from Steuben's Oil Poriraii at Versailles) 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 17 

signed their surrender. A portion of the Dutch fleet 
was anchored near the mouth of the Texel. Pichegru, 
who wanted to forestall its escaping by means of a 
possible thaw, sent some squadrons of cavalry and 
batteries of light artillery to the North of Holland, 
The French squadrons crossed the ice at a gallop, and 
hussars and mounted artillery were seen to attack the 
stationary ships as though they had been a fortified 
position. The Dutch fleet offered little opposition to 
this new method of assault. At Bois-le-Duc we stayed 
with an uncle on my mother's side who owned an im- 
mense house, such as in Paris would have been dignified 
by the nai^je of a mansion. In this house the staff of 
the French army was quartered, and Pichegru, the com- 
mander-in-chief of the army, was likewise lodged here. 
My uncle gave up the main part of the building to the 
staff, which thus occupied the best rooms. With his 
family and his servants he modestly retired to the right 
wing overlooking the garden. As for my husband and 
myself, we were welcomed with open arms. The 
very day of our arrival -a ceremonial dinner was given 

in our honour, to which all the relatives of van M had 

been invited who were available. My uncle's family 
was composed of his wife, three daughters, and two sons. 
The girls were all pretty, but Maria, the youngest, en- 
tirely eclipsed the others. 

Generals Pichegru and Moreau, and a few other French 
officers of high rank whose commands were stationed 
near by, were presented to us as friends of the family, 
and took part in this dinner. Pichegru, the head of 
the army of invasion, "the vanquisher of Holland," 
as he was called, was then at the height of his brilliant 
military career. He sat next to me at the table. But 
in spite of his obvious wish to make himself agreeable 
I found no pleasure in his society. Serious in his de- 
meanour, cautious in his speech in spite of the frankness 



i8 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

he affected, and much given to flattery, it was easily 
seen that his conduct was dictated by motives of policy. 
I felt that his politeness was insincere. Altogether he 
made a bad impression on me. I noticed especially 
that he was a heavy eater. The dinner was excellent. 
He helped himself more than once to several of the 
dishes, and drank in proportion, but without apparent 
consequences. But, after all, however slightly I was 
prepossessed with General Pichegru, I never should 
have suspected that behind that laurel-wreathed brow 
traitorous designs were then already hatching. 

My attention was particularly attracted to General 
Moreau. There were two reasons because of which I 
was extremely desirous of making his acquaintance. 
First, there were the eulogies with which General Dessoles 
had more than once alluded to him in my presence; 
and then there was my cousin Maria's ardent praise of 
his bravery, his kindness, and other equally good quali- 
ties which are rarely found together. Without this 
very favourable account of General Moreau, I should 
no doubt never have distinguished him from among the 
other French generals, for his bearing and appearance 
were very simple indeed. Maria was so entirely wrapped 
up in General Moreau, her lovely eyes seemed so un- 
ceasingly fixed upon him, her ears seemed to drink in 
the least of his words with such avidity, that certain 
suspicions I had harboured, which at first had been 
vague, now developed into certainty. I was deeply 
grieved to see what danger my cousin was plunging into, 
remembering that it was much in the same manner 
that I had gone astray. At a later time I was able to 
recognize and appreciate all of Moreau' s fine traits of 
character. In the meanwhile I took occasion, one day, 
to say to my cousin, about whose infatuation for the 
general I was becoming more and more concerned, 

" It looks to me as though your attachment for General 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 19 

Moreau were of a tenderer kind than ordinary friendship. 
Could any other sentiment have ?" 

"Yes," said she, proudly throwing back her head, 
" he has all my love, and will have it as long as I live. " 

Although not unprepared for such an answer, I was 
amazed at the impassioned tone in which it was given. 
And even when Maria spoke again in the quiet, charming 
way which so endeared her to everyone, it was only to 
extol the man of her choice. 

Taken aback at the depth of her passion for him, I did 
not venture to examine her any further. I did not dare 
to ask her as to how far Moreau was aware of her love. 
But from the conversation which followed between us I 
gathered that I should be justified in giving free rein to 
my worst apprehensions. It was then that I became 
seized with a strong desire to rescue my young cousin 
from an infatuation which sooner or later must bring 
the direst consequences upon her. I therefore resolved 
to take the initiative myself on behalf of the imprudent 
girl. 

One day a party from my uncle's house took a ride on 
horseback in the surrounding country. Moreau was 
one of us. An opportunity to talk with him readily 
presented itself. When we were far enough away from 
the others to insure our not being overheard, I made so 
bold as to inform him openly that I knew how matters 
stood between him and Maria. 

"Maria," I went on, "has no pretensions to becoming 
your wife, but her name and station would prevent her 
from consenting to any other relation. You will recog- 
nize, General, that she is entitled to your respect. Nor 
would you, by continuing this illicit connection, make 
her imperil her reputation. You ought therefore to 
think of a pretext for leaving the country, so that my 
cousin's peace of mind may be restored. " 

Moreau answered in accents which I shall never forget. 



20 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

He avowed that his connection with Maria caused him 
deep remorse. He moreover declared his readiness to 
make reparation by asking for her hand in marriage. 
If he was not accepted, he would go away at once, and 
would ask for another command, in order to rid her of 
his presence who had suffered so much on his account. 

Moreau's words were those of an honest man, desirous 
of making amends for an error committed upon mere 
impulse. From that time on I gave him my full regard. 
The result was what I had expected. Maria refused the 
General's honourable offer. Moreau left the next day. 
Maria was in despair; she said that she could never love 
again. She came to me for consolation, and we wept 
together. 

After the departure of General Moreau, Pichegru 
favoured me with very marked attentions, which I 
naturally ascribed to motives in no way bearing on State 
politics. General Pichegru was not wanting in a cer- 
tain capacity for affability when he believed it in his 
interest to show it. One morning, as I was engaged in 

writing to van M , who was at Bommel with General 

Moreau, a visit was announced from General Pichegru. I 
ordered him to be admitted. He was supposed to have 
a small opinion of women, and was said to be exclusively 
taken up with political interests and schemes of per- 
sonal ambition. In spite of my prejudices against him, 
my vanity was naturally somewhat flattered at the in- 
sistence with which he sought me out at all occasions. 
Deception was lying in wait for my coquettish instincts. 
Pichegru was really a very clever man. He proved it 
in this instance in going straight to the point he had in 
view. But in spite of his astuteness I was not long in 
discovering that he had his eye upon me to serve him in 
a little political intrigue. ]\Iy woman's cleverness was a 
match for his. I pretended not to understand his object, 
and the general was obliged to go without the help he 




GENERAL VICTOR MOREAU 

{From a Painting at \'crsaiUes) 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 21 

had expected to get from me. I have no unpleasant 
recollections of this episode. But the case must have 
been different with Pichegru, who never forgave me for 
having seen through his game. His conduct towards 
me suddenly changed altogether, his language be- 
coming defiant and almost offensive. 

Beside Pichegru's reputation as a soldier, that of 
Moreau was rapidly growing up. To the capabilities 
he had for some years been exhibiting was added a dis- 
interestedness rare to behold among officers of a con- 
quering army. Never was he known to accept the 
presents that every town was accustomed to offer to a 
victorious general. His name for integrity was so well 
established that Dutchmen came to consult him about 
their private affairs. Alas ! Why did he not fall on 
the field of battle in Holland, in Germany, or in Italy, 
in the midst of the valiant Frenchmen he so often led to 
glory ! Why was his death not worthy of a life that 
once promised so well ! How true is the reflection of 
the poet of old : " Those whom the gods love die young. " 

The evening of our arrival at Utrecht there was a 

supper at the commander-in-chief's, to which van M 

was invited. I went with him. It was there that I 
heard the name of Ney for the first time — a name that 
was to be so closely associated with my future fate. 
Colonel Meynier had just received news from one of his 
friends who was serving with the army of the Rhine. 
The colonel read out the letter aloud at the end of 
supper. It announced that Kleber had appointed Ney 
his general adjutant. This promotion had followed upon 
a gallant exploit described in the letter. The news 
created marked pleasure among the officers present, 
who, having known Ney when he was with the army 
of the Sambre-et-Meuse, had the highest opinion of his 
bravery and military abilities. 

I scarcely can say what the nature of my feelings was 



22 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

during this" supper. Sitting silent and inwardly agitated, 
I internally shared in the general enthusiasm, without 
being acquainted with the man who was its object. It 
was not the hero of a novel who was thus enchanting 
my imagination. It was a person who really existed, 
and who was called Michael Ney. The name was en- 
graved upon my mind in indelible letters. Late at 
night I was still thinking of the flattering account I 
had heard of this Republican general. 

We left Utrecht so suddenly that I barely had time 
to bid Colonel Meynier farewell and to assure him of 
my good will. I took the opportunity, however, to 
make some inquiries about Ney. He promised to con- 
vey to his friend the sentiments of esteem which I en- 
tertained for him. We had scarcely arrived upon our 

estate near Amsterdam, when van M was obliged 

to absent himself again. He went away with, two 
friends, and I was left alone for a week. 

I was living in security and happiness, and, young 
as I was, was rejoicing in my fine position in society, 
when something happened which changed the cause of 
my existence forever, which threw me off the smooth, 
beaten track of life which seemed to be my destiny. 

My husband had been back for three weeks. I was 
alone one day in my room when a box was brought to 
me which had just arrived by a messenger. I paled at 
the sight of the writing of the address. A trembling 
hand had traced a few thin lines, in which I recognized 
the hand of Marescot. A violent emotion seized me, 
and I made up my mind that this package must contain 
the last farewell, or perhaps a last love-token from the 
man whose memory, though it had for a time been 
effaced, had always survived at the bottom of my heart. 

" He is wounded; perhaps he is dead ! " I thought, 
and fell upon the floor in a faint. 

When I came to I was in the arms of my husband, 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 23 

who was lavishing the tenderest care and the gentlest 
caresses upon me. I tore myself from his arms and fell 
at his feet, exclaiming: 

"Oh ! leave me, I am unfit to be your wife ! Do not 
let my unhappy mother know of my shame !'* 

My husband raised me up kindly, and pressed me to 
his bosom. There was nothing left for him to know. 
A bracelet and a letter contained in the box he had 
opened had told the whole story. But being of a philo- 
sophical turn of mind, he readily pardoned me. 

"My poor friend," said he, "we must observe entire 
secrecy about this sad business. I am as guilty as you 
are; your mother had warned me of your danger, but I 
did not listen to her. She and the rest of the world 
must be kept in ignorance of what has happened. As 
for me, I must accuse myself of not having watched 
your innocent youth carefully enough. Forgive me for 
it ! You will always find me the most faithful and in- 
dulgent of friends. " 

But these kind words remained ineffectual. Indeed, 
they only tended to deepen my remorse. My husband 
supposed my alienation from virtue to be but temporary, 
but I felt hopelessly wicked. I was dumb before his 
repeated demonstrations of affection. If I no longer 
was actually in love with him whose want of caution had 
exposed me, I still was unable to blot his memory out of 
my heart. 

In the evening I was in a worse state of mind than 
ever. My husband came to see me again, and in order 
to overcome my unresponsiveness and my savage silence 
he lavished endearments and caresses upon me. Of a 
sudden I began to hate him. I could not forgive van 

M for overlooking a fault so quickly which ought 

at least to have made him show a melancholy reserve, 
if not stern indifference. No doubt I was unjust, but it 
seemed to me that he was degrading me to the place of 



24 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

a mistress by betokening emotions which could not have 
been based on respect. 

This idea continued to ferment in my brain, and so 
took possession of me, that I decided to leave my hus- 
band, even if the resolve should bring upon me the 
forfeiture of my advantages of birth and of my fortune. 
My fervid imagination and the independence of my 
character would not allow me to pretend sentiments 
any longer which were not really mine. I determined 
that I would henceforth live alone, so as not to be obliged 
to accept the coin of an affection I was unable to return. 
My marriage portion, which my husband had never 
consented to touch, was sixty thousand florins. The 
laces and jewellery my mother had given me on my 
wedding day were worth about one hundred and thirty 
thousand florins, I decided to take away with me only 
as much as I could consider my personal property, which 
included a thousand ducats in cash that I owed to my 
mother's generosity. I gave up the luxuries of my 
married life without repining, and made up my mind to 
keep none of the presents I had received from my hus- 
band since the beginning of our union. 

My husband left the next day for Amsterdam, where 
he was to attend two political meetings. He spent 
several days there. I did not lose a moment in making 
preparations for departure. I put my diamonds and 
my laces in a handbag, as well as the thousand ducats 
in gold. I then filled a trunk with linen and other 
clothes, and sent it to Utrecht to the Hotel du Mail, 
with a letter to the proprietor announcing my impending 
arrival. The same day I left my house at nightfall by 
the garden gate, where a postchaise was waiting for me. 
Before quitting forever the conjugal roof under which I 
had enjoyed universal respect and esteem, I wrote my 
husband a complete confession of my wrongs, at the 
same time renouncing all claims upon him. I also asked 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 25 

him not to make any endeavours to find me. My plan 
was to spend some time in Paris, living there under an 
assumed name, and devoting myself to study and the 
arts. In the letter I informed him of my intention of 
going alone, I was to have no one for a companion, I 
said, and did not propose to go to the house of any friend. 
I purposed to gain my own livelihood, so as to live a 
free, if obscure, existence. I also wrote my mother 
an avowal of my error, and begged her pardon for the 
pain I was causing her, adding that, being unworthy 
of taking refuge with her, I was going abroad. But I 
said that I loved her still, and that I would send her news 
from my new place of residence. 

To-day, in surveying the past, and in reflecting upon 
that occurrence which was the turning point in my 
career, I must sorrowfully acknowledge that I ought 
not so hastily to have taken such a serious step. But, 
being young and inexperienced, I was the victim of the 
violence of my passions. The die was cast ! 



CHAPTER III 

ARRIVAL IN UTRECHT — INTERVIEW WITH GROUCHY — 
AND WITH MOREAU — INTIMACY WITH MOREAU BE- 
GINS — HIS SIMPLICITY AND SENSE OP JUSTICE — 
CAMPAIGNING IN MEN's CLOTHES ONCE MORE — PICHE- 
GRU'S TREACHERY — IN PARIS WITH MOREAU — A 
HOUSE PURCHASED IN PASSY — COLLISION WITH MME. 
TALLIEN'S carriage — VISITS TO MME. TALLIEN AND 
DRIVES WITH HER. 

By the time I had reached the Hotel du Mail at Utrecht 
the next day, I had succeeded in persuading myself 
that my flight had been necessary. It was true that in 
leaving my husband I sacrificed my reputation, but at 
the same time I was ensuring his peace and my own 
happiness. 

Nobody in Utrecht was surprised to see me appear 

without van M . Everybody knew how much 

liberty we were accustomed to allow one another. Be- 
sides, I was dressed in men's clothes. I had put them 
on for the first time in the campaign of 1792, and since 
that time I had often worn them when I travelled. 

After my departure my husband's family had in- 
sited upon my being followed so that I might be brought 
back and locked up. To this my mother willingly 

agreed. Van M , however, declared that he would 

never consent to such a plan, and that neither would he 
entertain the notion of a divorce. Far from trying to 

27 



28 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

irritate me by taking strong measures, he on the con- 
trary made every effort to persuade me by gentle means. 
He had in his hands the written statement of my fault. 
He might have made use of it. His family was for a 
long time ignorant of the fact that he owned such an 
important document. My flight from him was the 
only grievance that, so far as any one else knew, could be 

brought against me. As soon as van M had become 

apprised of my disappearance, he had gone direct to 
Paris in the hope of finding me there. He did not think 
I should stop at Utrecht. 

The first thing I did upon arriving there was to write 
to General Grouchy, who was then absent from town. 
Colonel Meynier, as soon as he learned that I was in 
Utrecht, made haste to come to see me. He seemed 
painfully affected upon hearing what events had caused 
my presence in Utrecht and what resolution I had 
taken. With all the straightforwardness of a brave 
soldier and an honourable man, he gave me the only 
advice which soimd reason could dictate. Without 
sparing my feelings very much he explained what sad 
things the future had in store for me. For several days 
he remonstrated with me, but, finally seeing that my 
mind was fully made up, ceased from referring to the 
subject. 

I comforted myself with the thought that nobody 
would ever be able to accuse me of making use of the 
fortune of the man whose love and confidence I had be- 
trayed. When van M died, a few years later, at 

Demerara, in Dutch Guiana, I learnt that his will con- 
tained several clauses in my favour. It merely remained 
for me to avail myself of them. But I abstained from 
claiming the property from his family, and did not touch 
his legacy. I had been in Utrecht a week when General 
Grouchy came back from a tour upon which he had 
been accompanied by Mme. Lin . This handsome 




STAGE COACH OF THE NAPOLEONIC ERA. 



MEMOIRS OP A CONTEMPORARY 29 

woman exhibited absolute indifference to public opinion. 
She had not, like myself, deserted her husband. But 
she was none the better for that. Grouchy came to 
see me. He seemed sorry to find me in such a position. 
I asked him as to the whereabouts of Moreau. Being 
told that he was at Menin, I requested Grouchy to send 
him a letter in which I proposed to ask for protection 
against my husband's relatives. Grouchy consented, 
and had my letter transmitted to the general. 

No sooner was I alone, than I was seized with a vague 
fear. I resolved to follow my letter at once, or rather 
to anticipate it. It was then eleven o'clock in the 
morning. I gave an order for a postchaise. Colonel 
Meynier offered to escort me, and went to ask his com- 
manding officer for leave of absence. While he was 
gone I wrote a letter to my mother. I then made my 
preparations very quickly and by half past three we 
were on the road with a maid and a man servant whom 
I had engaged in Utrecht. A few hours' journey from 
Menin Colonel Meynier left me. As soon as I was es- 
tabhshed at the hotel at Menin I announced my arrival 
to General Moreau in a brief note requesting him to call. 
He came directly after dinner. He expressed sincere 
gratification at meeting me, but his pleasure gave way 
to painful surprise when he found out why I was in 
Menin and why I was obliged to ask for his protection. 

"I can hardly," he said, "tell you how anxious I feel. 
But I should feel ashamed to think that one of our 
officers had been the cause of your doing anything so 
fatally imprudent." 

"General," I answered, "I came alone to ask for your 
protection !" 

"And it shall not be withheld, I assure you. But I 
beseech you not to throw everything to the winds. 
Write to your husband — write to him, I beg of you !" 

Moved to tears by his language, I allowed a part of 



30 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

my secret to escape. I acknowledged my guilt in such 
good faith and in such a repentant tone that no upright 
man could have doubted my sincerity. I attributed 
the wrong I had done my husband to an invincible power 
within me. Moreau made no further attempt to change 
my fixed attitude of mind. He at once became my 
friend and loyal protector. Proud and happy at having 
won him over, I confided my plans for the future to 
him. I renewed the assurances of my reliance upon his 
steadfast character, and strongly expressed the hope 
that he would not forsake me. 

General Moreau was not given to gallantry. The 
woman he was fondest of in all the world could never 
have made a coxcomb of him. But he was a sure and 
devoted friend to those whom he liked. Towards 
strangers or people he rarely saw, Moreau was cold and 
reserved. In moments of intimacy he showed much 
charm, and his conversation betrayed a cultivated 
mind, entirely devoid of affectation. He came to call 
upon me every day. I told him what I had seen on the 
battlefield at such an early age. He, on the other hand, 
talked to me of his rivals for fame. The names of Hoche, 
Dumouriez, Dampierre, and Marceau frequently had a 
place in our conversations. He appraised the military 
talent of the first at its just value. The personal charac- 
ter of the second repelled him, but did not prevent him 
from otherwise giving him full credit of his deserts. The 
other two he thought were in every way worthy of their 
reputation. Moreau was above all concerned for the 
renown of his country. A republican by nature, and 
this in the severest sense of the word, he was as plain in 
his manner and dress as he was in his tastes. 

I was burning to go to Paris. I wished to lead a 
retired life and to devote my time to study and the arts. 
One morning, therefore, I made up my mind to ask 
Moreau for a letter of introduction to one of his friends 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 31 

in Paris, which would facihtate my estabHshing myself 
in that city. But the general soon came in to inform 
me that he had been ordered to Kehl to take command 
of the army in lieu of General Pichegru. Without ever 
having accounted to myself for it, I found that my lot 
was cast in with Moreau. I had been unable to resist 
the expressions of devotion and affection he had lavished 
upon me since my arrival in Menin. I was proud of 
having exclusively inspired such a man with such senti- 
ments. So I did not refuse to go with him. I was 
again to find myself in the camps of war. This adven- 
turous existence pleased my imagination, and the journey, 
although it might entail some dangers, was nothing to 
me but a little excursion. Moreau naturally mentioned 
Pichegru's name. He professed a sincere friendship for 
that general. As for me, I could not conceal the antipa- 
thy I had conceived for him after the interview at Bois- 
le-Duc, 

"Surely you are too high-minded," said Moreau, "to 
judge a man like Pichegru so lightly. You are also too 
generous to persist in entertaining prejudices about him 
which I believe to be ill-founded. Perhaps some day I 
shall be able to justify him entirely in your eyes. But 
for the moment we need not speak of him. At Kehl 
you will see some fine generals : Saint-Cyr, Lecourbe, and 
Sainte-Suzanne, whom you already know, and young 
Delmas, whom you have not yet seen. May none of 
these brave officers steal your affections from me ! Ad- 
mire my friends as much as you like, only love no one but 
me!" 

My answer was a look and a smile which made him 
happy. 

The next day, dressed as a man, with blue coat and 
black necktie, I was ready at five o'clock in the morning 
for our departure. Moreau appeared to be charmed 
with his travelling companion. We drove in a calash, 



32 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

which was followed by a waggon containing our luggage. 
I will not pretend to relate here the splendid feats of 
arms I witnessed during my sojourn on the banks of the 
Rhine. Their glorious results were made very plain to 
France. I had my share of the privations and fatigues 
of a campaign. I was at headquarters for some length 
of time. Occasionally it happened that for two or three 
days I could neither change my clothes nor take off my 
boots, while I slept on the ground and ate the coarse 
bread of the soldiers. It was at this time that I caught 
a glimpse of General Ney, on horseback at the head of a 
column of men. I was struck by his proud bearing. 
But I only discovered who he was after he had gone by. 

When I began to feel the need of rest, I asked Moreau 
that my departure for Paris be postponed no longer. 
He assented, and allowed his body-servant to accompany 
me. Besides, I was protected by an escort as long as I 
was near the theatre of war. The general sent me to 
Mme. Duf in the Rue Saint-Dominique with a solicit- 
ous letter of introduction, recommending me to her 
kindness. I promised Moreau to live in the greatest 
privacy until such time as he should join me. 

For several months, then, I had led a solitary exist- 
ence, which I must say I found a very agreeable one, 
when I received a letter from Moreau, from which I 
extract the following: 

"Alas! dear friend, you showed more perspicacity 
than the rest of us ! For at this very moment I am 
about to acquaint the Directory with some very grave 
facts concerning General Pichegru. You shall soon be 
acquainted with the details of this painful affair. In a 
few days I shall be in Paris." 

At the beginning of the campaign some light troops 
had captured a van belonging to the baggage train of an 
Austrian general. In a strong-box which was remitted 
to Moreau he found a number of letters, some of which 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 33 

were in cipher. It took a long time to make out their 
contents, this important task being confided to Generals 
Desaix and Regnier, of the general staff. Proof was 
apparent that secret intelligence existed between General 
Pichegru and the exiled nobility and the princes of the 
house of Bourbon. 

Thus I was to see General Moreau once more. This 
hope filled me with joy. However, my sentiment 
toward Moreau was not that of love. It was rather ad- 
miration, respect, and gratitude for his handsome be- 
haviour towards me. Nevertheless, I shed tears when he 
arrived. He seemed satisfied with the account I gave 
him of my mode of living since our separation. He 
took up his abode in his house at Chaillot. 

I asked Moreau to find me a house at Passy or Auteuil, 
in order that I might be near him. In that way we 
should in some sort be neighbours. We should only go 
to Paris for the sake of the theatres. He would be able 
to pay me daily visits. This idea seemed to please him. 
^ But several days went by without his referring to the 
subject again. Only, I observed signs of intelligence 
between the general and my maid; there was a great 
amount of coming and going; mystery was printed on 
all faces; messages were sent and received, as to the 
purport of which I was wholly in the dark ; in fact, I felt 
that there must be a surprise in the air. Certainly, I was 
far from expecting that which was actually preparing. 

Moreau, once entrusted with the destiny of his country, 
rewarded by no other prize for his brilliant services than 
unmerited reproach, sought oblivion of the profound 
injustice done him in his love for me. He was, as I have 
already stated, the last person to indulge in petty gal- 
lantries. But through his inborn instincts of generosity 
he showed me the delicate attentions which were my 
constant delight, and which increased my regard for 
him day by day. 



34 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

One morning the general asked me to look at some 
apartments with him in Passy. To this I acceded, and 
he took me to the main road of that place. There he 
entered a charming house, comfortably furnished, and 
fitted out with the most perfect tast^. A lovely garden 
was annexed to the house, and at the bottom of it there 
stood a pavilion containing— like my pavilion in Paris — a 
small livery and several cupboards ornamented with 
mirrors and paintings. This aroused m.y warmest 
approbation. 

"Oh, general!" I exclaimed, "how I should like to 
live in such a place !" 

"Well, if you are so pleased with this house, of course 
you must stay in it." 

"But, is it to be let now?" 

"No, my dear friend — not unless you want to cancel 
your proprietorship. You are in your own house. " 

"My own house! General, you must not think of 
such a thing ! My means do not yet allow me such a 
luxurious apartment. I must be economical." 

Moreau easily seized an opportunity of making me 
accept a present — in the shape of a loan, as he put it. 
He told me that when my mother should have come to 
different views, I should then no longer need to draw 
upon my friends. In the meanwhile he wished to act 
as my banker, or my mother's, if I liked that better. I 
hoped soon to be able to refund Moreau the money he 
had disbursed for me in the purchase of this house, 
which henceforth I looked upon as my own. So that I 
at once proceeded to occupy it without any sense of 
committing an indiscretion. 

Moreau was now everthing in the world to me. He 
was my only friend and my only protector. He put his 
influence over me to good purpose in obliging me to seek 
distractions which would relieve me from the melan- 
choly that often oppressed me. Therefore, to please 




MADAME TALLIEX 

(From an Engraving by Legiiay) 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 35 

him, I consented not to shut myself up altogether, al- 
though I persisted in declining to see visitors. He would 
usually come for me of a morning, and we would take 
long walks together. When he was unable to come, I 
went out on horseback or in a carriage, as he wished me 
to. In the evening we would go ^o the play together, 
or sometimes I would go alone, and Moreau would join 
me there. Theatrical performances had always been 
my favourite amusement, and now were the only pastime 
which entirely absorbed my mind and made me forget 
bygone days. 

One day Moreau came to tell me that he would be 
obliged to make a short journey. He begged me to 
attend, during his absence, the first performance of an 
opera composed by a countryman of his, for which he 
had engaged a box, and which was to be given the next 
day. He appeared to be much interested in the success 
of this opera, whose author he said was his friend and a 
man of great gifts and large heart. The principal part 
was to be taken by a favourite actor of the public, and, 
like Moreau, a son of Brittany. The actor's name was 
Elleviou, and the composer was Alexander Duval. So 
I went to see the new opera, 

I was returning to Passy full of delightful reminiscences 
of the piece I had seen, when my carriage sustained a vio- 
lent shock and at the same time a piercing cry struck my 
ear. I opened the door, and jumped to the ground, at the 
risk of being run over by the wheels of the vehicle which 
had collided with mine. It was Mme, Tallien's carriage 
which had run into mine at the opening of the Cours-la- 
Reine, breaking one of its axle-trees in consequence. 
I at once asked her if she was hurt, but fortunately she 
had escaped with nothing worse than a severe fright. 
I had often heard her beauty spoken of, but it was now 
plain to me that all accounts underestimated her looks. 
Mme. Tallien was grandly gowned. She was on her way 



36 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

to the Luxembourg to a ball given by Barras. I seemed 
to make good impression upon her. I offered her a 
seat in my carriage, and expressed my desire to take her 
to her destination, since her own carriage was disabled. 
She accepted my proposition with graciousness, and we 
drove off at once. 

After thanldng me cordially, Mme, Tallien asked me 
my name. I answered she would be none the wiser if 
she heard it, as I lived alone in the country and was a 
foreigner. 

"A foreigner!" she exclaimed. "You are, I am sure, 
the Dutch lady whom General Moreau is hiding so care- 
fully from everybody, and whom he brought to France 
after capturing." 

I answered that I had voluntarily put myself under 
the protection of the general, who had been acquainted 
with my family. Mme. Tallien then very amiably made 
me promise to visit her. I left her at the Luxem- 
bourg. 

Upon Moreau's return I told him of my adventure. 
He seemed put out at the inclination I evinced to re- 
spond to Mme. Tallien's civilities. He had never refused 
to acknowledge her good qualities and her personal 
charm. Indeed, in every conversation between us in 
which this handsome woman had figured, he had always 
rendered her justice. But he had a small opinion of the 
majority of her friends. In his eyes such society was 
not suitable for me. It cost him a great deal to oppose 
me for the first time, but the political intrigues in which 
Mme. Tallien allowed herself to be involved inspired 
him with a profound dislike for her. At last he yielded 
to my persuasions, urging me, however, to keep closely 
on my guard, and to acquaint him with everything that 
was said to me about him in her circle. 

In order not to cause Moreau displeasure I ceased from 
mentioning Mme. Tallien's name to him. I merely 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 37 

availed myself of the permission he had given me to visit 
her. I saw as much of my new friend as I possibly could. 

My time being less taken up than Mme. Tallien's, and I 
being by temperament more enthusiastic than she, who 
lived in the whirl of high society, I gave myself up to 
my affection for her with all the ardour of an imagination 
nurtured in Italy, putting no restraint upon my feelings. 
Mme. Tallien, on the other hand, immersed in pleasures 
and politics, absorbed in affairs of dress and of State, 
was very much calmer in her friendship, which yet 
showed qualities of depth and durability. As I always 
was notified in advance of the hour of Moreau's visits, I 
made use of every morning that he did not come to go 
to Mme. Tallien's. I generally left at an early hour, 
wearing my men's clothes. 

Mme. Tallien lived at "The Cottage," a name she had 
given a straw-thatched house at the corner of an avenue 
near the quays and not far from the Champs-Elysees. 
The Marbeuf gardens were near her house. She was in 
the habit of receiving a great many guests, although she 
never gave balls. There was card-playing for high 
stakes, and there were dinners and suppers, but there 
was never any dancing. She gave orders to have me 
admitted to her room at any hour, without being pre- 
viously announced. Very frequently I would get her 
out of bed, since she was not given to early rising. I 
would help her to dress, although she said I was very 
awkward at it, and then we would drive off in a cabriolet, 
with my groom on horseback in attendance. Some- 
times we would drive over the new boulevards or in the 
Champ de Mars, or, again, we would take breakfast at 
the Mont-Pamasse "Dairy," which at that time was 
still a very rustic establishment. On these excursions 
her beautiful face shone with a keener enjoyment than 
was sometimes visible in it at the gorgeous festivities of 
the Luxembourg. 



CHAPTER IV 

MOREAU APPOINTED INSPECTOR-GENERAL OP THE ARMY 
IN ITALY— THE "CONTEMPORARY" GOES WITH HIM TO 
MILAN — THE CASA FAGUANI — ENTHUSIASM OF MIL- 
ANESE SOCIETY FOR " MADAME MOREAU " — THE NATURE 
OF HER REGARD FOR THE GENERAL — SPIES OF THE 
DIRECTORY — A DINING-ROOM COMEDY OF VENGEANCE — 
MOREAU 'S DESIRE TO MARRY IDA — MOREAU AND NEY 
CONTRASTED — ALL WOMEN ORDERED TO LEAVE THE 

ARMY — MOREAU OFFERS TO RESIGN HIS CAREER 

IDA MEETS OLD FRIENDS IN LYONS — MOREAU 'S MILITARY 
SUCCESSES IN 1799. 

MoREAU fretted under the enforced idleness to which he 
was condemned under the Directory, which was rendered 
all the more unendurable by the spying to which he was 
subject, and of which he saw fresh proof every day. 
Yet the time was nearing when the utilization of General 
Moreau's military talents would once more become 
compulsory. The year 1799 opened disastrously in 
Italy, Moreau having foreseen that further reverses 
would fall upon the army. He wrote several letters in 
elucidation of his views to the minister of war. At the 
moment when he least expected it, the rank was assigned 
to him, in the month of April, of inspector-general, and 
he was ordered to attend the sittings of a commission 
oppointed by the government for the purpose of pre- 
paring a plan of campaign and devising defensive and 

39 



40 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 



offensive measures. At the office of the minister of war 
Moreau was fully informed of the strength and resources 
of the army of Italy. He did not hesitate to sacrifice 
his pride, and accepted the secondary post of inspector- 
general. This act of modesty was soon to redound to his 
fame. One day at seven o'clock in the morning he came 
to me to tell me of his nomination, and asked me if I 
would consent to accompany him, and whether I could 
do so without regret. I replied that I would be ready 
the next morning. He thanked me affectionately. I 
lost no time in making my preparations for the journey. 

Next day, at six o'clock, as I had promised Moreau, I 
was ready to go. We started in a carriage. The journey 
seemed very short to me. Time never hung heavily 
when I was with Moreau. He had a special capacity for 
analyzing and describing human character, which ca- 
pacity he was very fond of indulging. Besides, he was 
gifted with the art of story-telling. His memory was 
well stocked with anecdotes, and his conversation was 
very varied. All along the road he gave me particulars 
about the people then occupying the most important 
posts in the army in Italy. He had more than once 
spoken to me of Bernadotte, and often reverted to him. 
Later events showed that he estimated him rightly. 

"Bernadotte," said he. "harbours an ambition which 
will ruin him if it does not raise him above everybody 

else " 

We travelled, it is true, at a great rate, but scarcely 

fast enough to satisfy my impatience. 

Arriving at Milan at midnight, we spent the next two 
days in the strictest incognito at the Hotel Pelican, 
where Moreau had taken quarters. When once the 
official lodging of the inspector-general had been selected, 
we went to live at the Casa Faguani, in the Via San- 
Pietro This mansion belonged to the Countess Faguani, 
whose name it bore. The lady in question had no love 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 41 

for the conquerors of her country. She therefore had 
withdrawn to the country, and had left her majordomo, 
with two or three servants, to receive and take care of us. 
The rooms were very fine and large, and adorned with 
handsome paintings and magnificent pieces of sculpture. 
But chairs and tables of the meanest quality had been 
substituted ever5^where for the sumptuous furniture 
which usually filled the house. Mirrors, clocks, hang- 
ings, antique vases — all had disappeared. The major- 
domo, surprised at seeing the general accompanied by a 
fashionable young woman, — for I had put aside my 
men's clothes before going to the Faguani mansion, — 
proposed to fit out anew the apartment that I was to 
inhabit. I thanked him cordially for his kind intentions, 
but refused. Moreau was grateful to me for not showing 
myself more exacting. But when Signor Patrizzio 
heard me speak to him in the purest Italian, nothing 
in the world could prevent him from once more putting 
back everything ornamental belonging to the sitting- 
room, the bedroom, the dressing-room, and the bath- 
room allotted to me. As if by magic pink and white 
damask hung in long folds before the windows and over 
the gilded wainscoting of my apartment. The opulence 
and the good taste of the countess was made manifest 
at every hand. 

Patrizzio was a queer individual, but at the same time 
a good fellow in every sense of the word. Violently 
prejudiced against the French, nothing would have 
given him greater pleasure than to see us deprived of 
everything, had it not been for my Italian speech and 
manner, which speedily won me his good graces. He 
insisted upon showering compliments upon me, and 
called me mia garhatissima padroncina. He also made 
his niece serve me as a maid. 

The first evening that we were established in our new 
home, the general said to me : 



42 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPOR.\RY 

"My dear friend, you must know that I wish you to 
have a suitable position in this country, and with it the 
consideration that I ahvays want to be paid you. I, 
therefore, must tell you that from this day forth you are 
to be Madame Moreau for everybody. You will take 
this name, will you not?" 

These words made a painful impression upon me. For 
it seemed to me that in taking the general's name I 
should for a second time be abandoning the name which I 
bore by right of a legitimate union. I was averse to 
publicly outraging my husband in this manner, whom I 
had already so cruelly afflicted. Moreau mistook the 
motive of my hesitation in answering. 

"My dear friend," he said, "this idea seems to dis- 
please you." 

I threw myself weeping into his arms, and confessed 
my scruples to him. With rare tenderness and delicacy 
the general pacified my feelings and quieted my con- 
science. 

The lay after this we began to be visited by the au- 
thorities. I was very much flattered by the civilities 
proffered me as the wife of General Moreau. Invitations 
poured in upon us from all sides. A dressmaker in 
Milan, Mme. Riviere, was summoned to the Casa Faguani, 
and charged with the highly important task of making 
me a splendid gown for the dinner that was soon to be 
given by the Cis- Alpine Directory. This time Moreau 
himself took an active interest in my dress. Thanks to 
him it was most fashionable and tasteful. ]\Iy good 
figure, my fresh complexion, and my fair hair on the day 
after the Directory's dinner called forth a quantity of 
poems, which were sent to me printed on satin in letters 
of gold. The wildest enthusiasms for me prevailed when, 
after talking with me for over two hours, the celebrated 
Monti declared that I knew all the Italian poets as well 
as himself. All the guests sang the praises of il dotto 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 43 

sapere, le grazie ivezzi delta hellissima cittadina Moreau. 
When I appeared as an amazon on horseback, al corso 
orientale, I attracted a universal attention which I could 
not but attribute to my success of the night before. 

Common sense at first preserved me from the intoxica- 
tion in which such social triumphs might have plunged 
me. But soon I set no limit to my expenditure. Mme. 
Riviere's thirty work-women were all kept busy at my 
dresses alone. Moreau left not a single wish of mine 
unfulfilled. The time came when I was referred to less 
for my good looks than for my extravagance and luxur- 
ious habits. If the men envied Moreau, the women 
envied my fashionable gowns, and my jewellery. In 
consequence of my triumphs I of course made a number 
of enemies. Yet in the midst of all the festivities and 
the whirl of pleasures, I was gnawed by a malady hitherto 
unknown to me : I was tired of it all. 

With a few exceptions the bringing up of Italian women 
is very deficient. The moral side of their education is 
greatly neglected. They are taught a few ornamental 
accomplishments. From childhood up they indulge 
in habits of idleness. The baths they take every day, 
and the time they bestow on dressing their hair, and the 
attending to their toilet — all this takes up three-quarters 
of their life. They sleep a great deal in the day time, 
and at night they go to balls and the opera to show off 
their beauty and their clothes. They emerge from the 
vortex of worldliness to hasten to the confessional, 
whence they fly back to new pleasures. There are very 
few of them who know what true religion is, that is to 
say the religion which dwells in the heart. The piety 
of nearly all of them consists in the scrupulous observance 
of outward ceremonies. Nothing is stranger than the 
way in which they are able to compromise with their 
consciences, and the ease with which they combine their 
religious devotions with the "exigencies" of love. It 



44 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

was particularly after my second journey to Italy that 
I was able to see through the scandalous indulgence of 
confessors for their penitents in everything pertaining 
to the department of gallantry. The abundance of alms 
which I distributed among the poor, the large sums I 
contributed whenever it was a case of answering a call 
for the fitting out of a chapel, and finally the gold-piece 
with which I never failed to pay for the benediction of 
our house, brought it about that I was considered a good 
Catholic, seeking expiation for sin through deeds most 
meritorious in the sight of God — deeds of charity. 

Never did I abuse Moreau's deep love for me for the 
purpose of furthering my personal interests. It was a 
passion of which I was truly proud. Other men than 
Moreau have inspired me with love more fervent. But 
I had never felt a more profound regard and a more real 
respect for anybody. He was so kind and so genuinely 
sympathetic when we were alone together. Moreau 
was always pleased when, early in the morning, between 
six and seven, I sent word to him by my maid that I 
was awake, and that I should like to see him in my room. 
This was the time for that intimate talk which is so full 
of charm for two souls that thoroughly understand each 
other. We then could talk quite freely without any 
secrets between us. Was he depressed by some serious 
annoyance ? My natural gaiety was not long in bringing 
him back to a more cheerful state of mind. Was he 
irritated because of long waiting, or because of the news 
of some injustice done him on the part of the Directory ? 
I soon banished such painful thoughts by recurring to 
reminiscences of his renown. I spoke to him of his feats 
of arms and of the services he had rendered his country. 
This never failed to evoke a smile from him and a return 
to good humour. 

Things were looking darker every day in Italy. Mes- 
sengers and despatches were constantly arriving from 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 45 

the army and the Directory. The general, without 
ever initiating me into his mihtary secrets, could not, 
nevertheless, help showing grief or dissatisfaction when 
he was with me according as the news he had received 
was good or bad. I contented myself with the small 
confidences he saw fit to make me, without ever taking 
the liberty fo asking him questions. One evening, how- 
ever, I observed that he was so anxious and disturbed 
that I ventured to ask him the reason of it : 

"You will not, I am sure, ascribe my questioning you 
to idle curiosity, but will know that I want to share in 
your troubles." 

From a few remarks which escaped him I understood 
that recent despatches from the Directory tried to make 
him conclude arrangements with certain army con- 
tractors which would have been extremely disadvantage- 
ous to our soldiers. 

"And meanwhile I can do nothing to stop such shame- 
ful transactions!" he indignantly exclaimed. "The 
wretches ! They are rolling in luxury at the expense of 
the country, and as for the soldier who is to die for his 
country they deny him his due. Yet they have the 
temerity to find fault with me because I am severe 
towards the contractors!" 

Through a very strange combination of moral traits, 
persistency — or obstinacy, whichever it might have 
been — existed in Moreau side by side with great vacilla- 
tion. This is the only defect I ever discovered in his fine, 
noble character. In preparation of a plan of campaign, 
and on the battlefield, Moreau exhibited all the will- 
power and energy which forsook him as soon as he 
approached political affairs. 

An agent of the Directory whom I had sometimes seen 
in Paris at Mme. Tallien's was then in Milan, entrusted 
with a mission to the Cis-Alpine Directory. He was one 
of General Moreau's principal enemies, the general, in 



46 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

fact, having warned me to be on my guard against him. 
This creature, a short time before my departure for Italy, 
had had the impudence to offer me a large sum of money 
to reveal secrets that did not belong to me, and with 
which, moreover, I was not in the least familiar. In 
concert with another "honest" spy he returned twice 
to the charge in order to buy a letter I was to write, 
stating that at Bois-le-Duc, and during the whole of the 
Dutch campaign, a secret agreement was forming be- 
tween Moreau and Pichegru for betraying France. I 
need not say with what anger and contempt I rejected 
these infamous offers, which I never mentioned to Moreau. 
I was obliged, nevertheless, for several days to treat 
the wretched spy politely, who did not venture to re- 
new his attempts at bribery. Moreau, who had been 
approached in a similar way by spies of the Directory, 
of course likewise treated their machinations with utter 
contempt. 

The day after the conversation I have just quoted, we 
were to go to a grand dinner given by the Count Orosco, 
the Spanish ambassador, but Moreau told me that I 
should be obliged to go alone. He gave me the sort of 
injunctions which a husband gives his wife when she 
goes into society without him. I promised to behave 
with dignity. At bottom I did not expect to enjoy 
myself much at the dinner. It, however, turned out to 
be much more amusing than I had hoped for. 

From earliest childhood I had been accustomed to 
being told how good-looking I was. I believed the state- 
ment with perfectly good faith, without attaching par- 
ticular importance to my natural advantages. While I 
was flattered because of my beauty, compliments were 
paid me — which were no doubt very exaggerated — about 
my wit, and this, it is true, made me feel somewhat vain. 
But in my vanity there was nothing offensive to other 
women. I was really a good sort of soul. Still, if I was 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 47 

not disagreeable, I knew how to defend myself against 
attack from one of my own sex. The dinner at the 
Spanish embassy, which I have just mentioned, gave 
rise to an episode of this kind. 

The ambassador's wife, Countess Orosco, was very 
ugly, for which reason she was very jealous of many 
other women, and of myself in particular. Besides this, 
she was proud of her literary accomplishments, and too 
conceited to admit that in this respect I could possibly 
have the least advantage over her. I willingly could 
forgive the countess as far as my face was concerned, 
but not her small opinion of my mental faculties. So I 
resolved to revenge myself signally upon her at this very 
dinner. I did it in a very simple way. I flirted vigor- 
ously with my neighbour at the table. General Lebel, 
who had the reputation of being one of the handsomest 
men in the army, but who was rather stupid. My friend 
the ambassadress, it was rumored, had succeeded in 
harnessing the general to her chariot. 

Although Moreau was never considered a jealous man, 
and certainly never deserved to be thought so, his almost 
constant attendance upon me in the drawing-rooms of 
Milan, and our evident pleasure in each other's company, 
frightened away the bright butterflies who might .have 
desired to flit about me. But that evening I was not 
under the eye of my Argus, as my admirers called Moreau, 
and I treated the ambassadress with exeniplary cruelty 
all through the dinner and afterwards. 

Carried away by the amiability I displayed towards 
him. General Lebel, whose cardinal virtue was not con- 
stancy, very quickly loaded himself with guilt in the 
eyes of the lady who was so much interested in him. 
Under the pretext of talking to me about General Moreau 
he clung to my heels in spite of the furious glances shot 
at him by the countess. He was doubly mistaken in 
his breach of faith, since it did not in the least ingratiate 



48 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

him with me. He took all my smiles for genuine cur- 
rency. He refused to leave me for an instant the whole 
evening, and had neither a word nor a look for the lady 
of his heart, who was in a terrible rage, and who was 
only restrained in the boimds of propriety by her bringing 
up. Internally she wished me at the devil. 

There was no sequel to this dinner-party. But I 
never have been able to think without laughing of the 
probable scene which took place afterwards between 
her ladyship, the Spanish ambassadress, and her flighty 
admirer. 

Moreau, to whom I related the whole story, gravely 
censured my conduct, adding that through such light 
and thoughtless behaviour I had laid myself open to 
criticism, which was always ready to assail a young and 
pretty woman like myself. I pretended to agree with 
Moreau's view. But secretly I was quite delighted 
with my little feminine revenge. Moreau's character 
was strongly tinged with austere republican principles 
of morality. He was a man of extreme delicacy of 
sentiment. This delicacy would undoubtedly have dis- 
approved of the illicit tie which bound us together, if he 
had not long entertained the wish and intention to sanc- 
tify our relation by a religious ceremony as soon as 
circumstances would allow. I repeat that I never was 
really in love with this general. What I felt for him 
was rather respect than love. With him I knew no 
more than the shadow of that great passion that was to 
possess me in mature womanhood and fill the rest of my 
life. It was left to another man to inspire me with that 
passion which inflicts so many and such deep torments, 
and brings so few moments of happiness. My connec- 
tion with Ney in no way resembled that between myself 
and Moreau. When Moreau first met me, my conduct 
was still clean as far as the public was concerned. I 
was besieged by admirers who lauded my beauty, which 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 49 

many of them declared was perfect. I mingled freely 
with society. And when, soon after, I besought Moreau's 
friendship, so little time had elapsed since the day when 
I could claim to deserve full consideration, that his love 
for me was necessarily respectful. I was only sixteen 
when I put myself in his hands. My youth and in- 
experience would, in any case, have urged such a just 
man to make all possible allowances for me. I always 
looked upon him more as my protector than my lover. 

Ney's character was as fiery as Moreau's was moderate 
and calm. But quite apart from this difference between 
these two remarkable men, I was far from being able to 
inspire Ney with the same interest as Moreau when 
events finally brought us together. I had not only for- 
feited my right to public regard, from which I had fallen 
as belonging to the category of women whose beauty is 
their only merit and fortune, but I had also the insinu- 
ations about me to overcome which had been poured 
into his ears. Besides, Ney was all along aware of the 
sentiments I had cherished towards him, and nothing, 
probably, could have prepossessed him less in my favour 
than the infatuation that had siezed me on his account. 
I was a few years older then. Moreau had tried to 
make an accomplished woman of me. He not only 
wanted me to show superiority to other women by my 
personal graces, but also through the cultivation of my 
mind. Ney, whose habits and tastes were so entirely 
at variance from those of Moreau, encouraged me to think 
very lightly of my feminine graces, and even to share in 
the risks and adventures of the stronger sex. The facts 
I shall relate further on about my military career will 
make plain how opposite the feelings were which attached 
me to those two great captains, and how different were 
the emotions which I excited in them. 

The day following the dinner at the Spanish ambassa- 
dor's, Moreau was the recipient of fresh despatches. I 



50 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

was sure, from his perturbation, that their tenor must be 
far from satisfactory. He was irritated to the last de- 
gree by the stupidity of the Directory, which left the 
army in Italy in the dangerous dilemma brought about 
it by the incapacity of its commander. He seemed to 
grow more and more anxious, and that day he spent a 
greater part of the morning in my apartments. He there 
answered the various despatches which continued to 
come in. As we had invited some people to dinner, he 
left me to attend to his toilet, and shut himself up in 
his study. 

He only reappeared at dinner time, in a darker mood 
and more taciturn than ever. I did not contrive to 
speak to him until the end of the meal, when coffee was 
being handed round. He asked me to cut the affair 
short, because he wanted to be alone with me, where- 
upon he withdrew. So, without infringing against the 
rules of politeness, I managed to empty my drawing- 
room two hours earlier than I usually would have done. 
I took advantage of my first moment of liberty to hasten 
to Moreau's study, where I found him at work. He 
informed me that he had just then received a second 
order to have all women removed from the army, and, 
in fact, showed me the written document from the Direc- 
tory to that effect. But it had apparently not yet oc- 
curred to the authorities in Paris to confide the post of 
commander-in-chief of the army to him. 

I protested very resolutely that I would not leave Italy, 
the land of my birth. If I was compelled to leave 
Moreau, so I told him, I would not do so except to go to 
Holland, and in that event I should never see him again. 
He asked me if I was in earnest. Upon my reply in the 
affirmative, he seemed to be deeply pained. He then 
said, after a few minutes of reflection: 

" I feel that I am in an equivocal position. As matters 
stand at present, I can hardly consider that I am in 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 51 

active service. I can, therefore, without any shirking 
of duty, hand in my resignation to-morrow. Then we 
can go away together, and I will never leave you again. " 

"Moreau!" I exclaimed, "do you think I should still 
want to devote my life to you if you ever ceased being 
yourself? I shall go alone — that is my answer!" 

Moreau was deeply moved by my decision. He told 
me that he would take every possible step to make my 
journey safe and pleasant. I was to travel as his wife, 
and was to go to his house at Chaillot. When I left 
Milan, Moreau handed me a letter of credit to his banker 
in Paris, which provided that the sum of twenty-five 
thousand francs should be placed at my disposal for 
personal expenses. My departure was retarded for 
several days. At last I left Milan on the 30th of April, 
1799. The name of Moreau's wife paved the way for 
me everywhere with universal civility and regard. I 
was touched with the kindness with which I was treated, 
and was glad to ascribe it to the esteem in which Moreau 
was held all over Europe. 

Moreau had arranged that I should stop at Lyons, at 
the Hotel Bellecour. The best apartment there was 
reserved for me, and on arriving I was received by the 
paymaster-general of the army, Sivelli, and two of his 
friends, who had been expecting me for a few days. 
Moreau was an old acquaintance of Sivelli, and had 
notified him of my proposed stay at Lyons. Sivelli 
showed me the letter which the general had written him. 
Moreau had extolled my good qualities and my cleverness, 
and in fact had made the most of my humble merits. 
I had stopped with Moreau at Lyons on the way to Milan, 
since which time I had often been remembered there. 
Some people who had known me in Holland, before I 
had separated from my husband, had divulged what 
tales they knew as to my family and my past life. And 
these tales had elicited a great deal of curiosity. This 



52 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

curiosity, which at first perhaps was not good-natured, 
soon changed to a kindly attitude. My personal appear- 
ance, I am sure, had nothing to do with the good im- 
pression I made. People were kind enough to think 
well of me because of my few good qualities, and especially 
because of the unceasing affability which I tried to main- 
tain in conduct and speech. 

I had been in Lyons for ten days, when a letter came 
from Moreau announcing that he had been made com- 
mander-in-chief and that since then things had taken a 
happier turn. 

The events which now followed were, briefly, these: 
Moreau got the shattered remains of the army together, 
at the head of twenty-five thousand men defied a hostile 
army of four times that number, and retreated through 
Milan and Piedmont, yielding only step by step. He 
garrisoned all the fortresses, beat the enemy several 
times, and through his skilful strategy rendered their 
numerical superiority of no special avail. He finally 
concentrated his forces in the neighbourhood of Genoa, 
where he waited for McDonnell to arrive from Naples, 
and after meeting that general insured the safety of the 
troops who had made a long, laborious, and perilous 
retreat from Naples. In August, 1799, Moreau, without 
a murmur, surrendered the command of the army he 
had saved into the hands of General Joubert, who was 
moved to tears by the excellent condition in which he 
found it and by the touching simplicity with which 
Moreau resigned a leadership upon which he had reflected 
such glory. Moreau afterwards took part in the battle 
of Novi — ^where Joubert was killed in one of the first 
charges — without a command, as an amateur. He fought 
like a true soldier. Three horses were killed under him 
without his taking his cigar out of his mouth, and he 
performed prodigies of valour to avert a defeat which 
himself had foreseen. Invested with the hazardous dis- 




'VA«sj5^ 






l^ 




('t]':.\I':i<al joiHi'irr 

(/iiii^rai'i'J ,ijlcr the I'ortrait by /hunliot) 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 53 

n 

tinction of commanding a defeated army by the universal 
acclaim of officers and men, he once more showed, by 
not being pursued, how much the enemy was afraid of 
him. He established himself strongly in the State of 
Genoa, and paved the way for the success of the general 
who was to take his place. Upon a fresh order from the 
Directory he made room for General Championnet, thus 
giving up for a second time the chieftainship of an army 
he had twice saved, in obedience to a childish whim of 
the government. 

It was after these events that Moreau returned to Paris, 
and that the incidents ensued which led to the rupture 
of our relations. 



CHAPTER V 

v^isit to mlle. contat — her dramatic roles — de- 
parture from lyons m. de la rue, the banker 

Talleyrand's indebtedness — his indifference to 
perjury — talleyrand and the inquisitive coach- 
maker — his exile — carnot prefers satan to him — 
audience granted to ida — moonlight walk with 

MME. TALLIEN NEY'S EXPLOIT AT MANNHEIM — 

IDA WRITES AN ARDENT LETTER TO HIM AND A COLD 
ONE TO MOREAU — AND MISDIRECTS THE ENVELOPES — 
THE RESULT. 

During my sojourn in Lyons, I was one day invited to a 
grand dinner at a rich merchant's, noted for his agreeable 
social qualities. He was also a great admirer of Moreau. 
It was at his house that for the first time I met M. de 
Parny, a nephew of the accomplished poet of the same 
name. I knew his uncle's poetry, and talked to him 
about it. He seemed to like the manner in which I 
expressed the delight I had experienced in reading his 
uncle's verses. M. de Parny, who since married Mile. 
Contat, at this time was at Lyons with her and Mole. 
I was most desirous of personally knowing this charming 
actress, whom some have equalled, but who will never 
be eclipsed. M. de Parny was most polite. In our very 
first interview he complimented me and flattered my 
pride in such a delicate way as to make me feel quite at 
ease with him. He was a particular adept in the art of 

55 



56 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

making the person conversing with him appear clever 
by leading up to the subjects which that person specially 
affected. Emboldened by his amiability, I ventured to 
give a somewhat literary turn to our interview. He 
seemed surprised at the number of French poems I 
recited from memory, and was good enough to say that, 
upon the whole, his taste agreed with mine. 

When I told him what supreme pleasure I derived 
from the drama, he asked me in what parts I had seen 
Mile. Contat. 

"In nearly all the parts she plays," I answered promptly, 
" and I have always found her acting most admirable. " 

M. de Pamy appeared to be pleased, and added that 
she would be happy to hear such commendation from 
my own lips. I therefore resolved to cast the conven- 
tions of society to the winds, and to pay Mile. Contat a 
visit. Consequently I went to her house the next morn- 
ing between lo and ii o'clock. Scarcely had the man- 
servant uttered the name of Mme, Moreau, when the 
whole house was in a commotion. Everyone to whom 
he mentioned my name, as he went to announce me to 
his mistress, pressed forward to get a look at me. In the 
meantime, in order to escape all these curious eyes, I 
had jumped out of my carriage and run up the stairs as 
quickly as I could. As I reached Mile. Contat's landing, 
M. de Parny and Mole came out of an apartment situ- 
ated on the same floor, and greeted me with much cor- 
diality. 

MJle. Contat, who came out to meet me just as I reached 
the top of her stairs, invited me to come in. Up till then 
I had never seen an actress off the stage, and shared the 
silly prejudice of a number of women who think that the 
whole attraction of an actress is in her make-up and her 
costume and the lights, just as they think that it is only 
her part that makes her manners graceful and elegant. 

When I saw Mile. Contat, her way of speaking and 




MADEMOISELLE CONTAT, THE ACTRESS 
{From '^n Old French Print) 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 57 

her distinguished bearing entirely disabused me of all 
such ideas. It was impossible to imagine a fresher and 
prettier woman, or one better versed in the usages of 
good society. Her acting on the stage was really a con- 
tinuation of her daily habits. 

She was then thirty or thirty-two years old. She was 
already beginning to show signs of stoutness, but this in 
no way damaged the effect of her figure, which looked 
to me even finer in her room than on the stage. Every- 
thing she wore suited her. The dressing-gown she had 
on clothed her graceful shape to great advantage. She 
had blue eyes, a mouth like a rosebud, and magnificent 
teeth, often discovered by a charming smile. Her face, 
a handsome oval, was crowned with a luxuriant head of 
hair, blonde and silky, which she wore unpowdered. A 
pretty little pert, tip-tilted nose completed her seductions. 
Among Mile. Contat's artistic triumphs one of the greatest 
was the role of Suzanne in the "Marriage of Figaro," 
which she created with all the perfection of her wonderful 
talent in 1784, while her youth, sprightliness, and beauty 
did everything that was possible to reinforce acting 
that was already peerless. The part, as it was written, 
was fascinating enough, but Mile. Contat added so much 
to its effectiveness that Beaumarchais himself was sur- 
prised. Never has music imparted to language a like 
expression to that which the mouth of the cleverest of 
interpreters gave the sallies of one of the greatest wits 
who ever penned word upon paper. 

Mile. Contat's real name was Louise Perrin. Her 
mother, a washerwoman in the suburb of Saint-Germain, 
had had Preville and Mole as customers, who from time 
to time had given her tickets for performances at the 
Comedie-Francaise, to which she used to take her daugh- 
ter. It was thus that the little one acquired a taste for 
the stage. Herself finally created Rosina in the " Barber 
of Seville," and Suzanne in the "Marriage of Figaro," 



58 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

as well as the principal female part in the "Guilty Mother," 
besides other important parts that might be mentioned, 
in all of which she earned brilliant success. 

The day after I met Mile, Contat I went to the theatre 
to see her and Mole in the "Misanthrope. " I was hand- 
somely gowned in a low-necked dress, and wore my 
finest jewels. My vanity was flattered by the compli- 
ments I received at all hands. But they affected me 
less than the silent looks of admiration from M, de Parny, 
that acknowledged judge of female beauty, whose eyes 
told me eloquently enough how good-looking he thought 
me. His mouth could have added nothing. 

On the day following this there was an excursion into 
the country and a rural banquet. I put on my men's 
clothes and told Sivelli that I wanted to ride his English 
horse, which was a fiery beast. Sivelli made several 
objections to which I paid no heed. The horse was 
brought out, I jumped boldly into the saddle, and I 
managed my steed with such skill as to set Sivelli's 
anxiety at rest for good and all on the subject of my 
equestrian abilities. Reaching the place where we were 
to dine, we found a table set under a bower of charming, 
leafy old trees. The greatest merriment prevailed all 
through the repast. After dessert I was asked to sing. 
I took a guitar which was handed to me, with the in- 
tention of singing some topical song that had been sug- 
gested, when I suddenly hit upon another idea. I threw 
down my guitar, and in a glow of enthusiasm intoned 
the "Marseillaise," The company surrounded me and 
seized my hands, and it seems to me that some of them 
even took the liberty of kissing me — under the stress of 
patriotic feeling. 

On the 23rd of June, 1799, I 1^^ Lyons, where I had 
been met with so much kindness and good will, and had 
made so many new friends. The remembrance of the 
treatment I received at that time from society in I^yons 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 59 

is the dearer to me since in less happier times, when I was 
in Lyons again, I found friends there whose attachment 
and devotion to me did not fail me in some of the greatest 
vicissitudes of my agitated career. 

After a very quick journey I arrived at Chaillot, 
mentally and physically exhausted. Everything was 
ready for my reception, in conformity with instructions 
given by the master of the house. All the resources of 
luxury had been drawn upon to deck out my apartment 
handsomely and comfortably. The isolation in which I 
found myself, however, saddened me considerably for 
the time being. 

I was known at Chaillot by the name of Mme. Moreau. 
My passport deposited at the police prefecture stated 
that the wife of General Moreau had arrived from Italy. 
A number of visitors called upon me, from motives of 
politeness or curiosity. But I declined to see any of 
them. Invitations too showered in from all sides. They 
remained unanswered. 

But a letter that came from Moreau gave room for 
some reflection on my part. He once more said that he 
was most desirous of becoming my husband, thus binding 
me to him indefinitely in legitimate union. He informed 
me at the same time that my family was negotiating 
with my husband's — who had gone to Surinam to attend 
to some business — with the object of arranging our final 
separation. My parents had written directly to Moreau. 
Holding his character in the highest esteem, they left 
it to his honour to give me back the social position from 
which I ought never to have fallen. 

After shutting my door to everyone for a long time, I 
at last felt the need for intercourse with the outer world. 
I thus made the acquaintance of M. de la Rue, a banker 
and a compatriot of Moreau, and a brother-in-law of the 
notorious contractor Solie. 

M. de la Rue was an altogether insignificant person, 



6o MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

devoid of either strikingly bad or remarkably good 
qualities ; his intelligence was bounded by rows of figures, 
and his conversation, as may be easily guessed, had few 
charms for me. On the occasion of his very first visit 
he told me that the general had instructed him to open 
me an unlimited credit at his bank. He then asked my 
permission to bring Mme. de la Rue, who requested the 
honour of being presented to the wife of General Moreau. 

She came a few days later, escorted by her husband. 
She was far from being either tactful or as well balanced 
in temper as he. On the other hand she was lively and 
keen, and exercised great influence over her husband. 
In the beginning of my friendship with Moreau she had 
attempted to induce M. de la Rue to damage me in the 
general's opinion. Moreau had told me of this little in- 
trigue at the time of our journey to Italy. Neither M. 
or Mme. de la Rue was unaware that I was not properly 
married to Moreau. This they had known all along, 
and although they had no reason to believe that my 
position was now altered, they did not scruple to call me 
by a name to which I was in no way entitled. I acknowl- 
edged that I felt a malicious joy in seeing their pride 
lowered to such a degree, especially as I was acquainted 
with their real sentiments towards me. I was civil, but 
nothing more, to M. de la Rue and his wife. 

One day the banker came to ask me to try to influence 
M. de Talleyrand, with whom he frequently had financial 
dealings. M. de Talleyrand had been minister of home 
affairs since the 14th of July, 1797, on which date a re- 
construction of the cabinet had taken place. 

The case of M. de Talleyrand, a priest, then a bishop 
under Louis XVI. and at the beginning of the Revolution, 
excommunicated, a royalist and an exile, a few years 
later through his cleverness and his genius for political 
intrigue being entrusted with the direction of the foreign 
affairs of a republic which had abolished titles and 



MEMOIRS OP A CONTEMPORARY 6i 

privileges, seemed to me one of the most remarkable 
things connected with a revolution which certainly 
abounded in noteworthy occurrences. 

In the reign of Louis XVL, Maurice de Talleyrand, 
the "Abbe Maurice de Perigord, " as he was called, was 
made agent-general of the clergy of France, a most lucra- 
tive post. A fixed salary was attached to it of eighteen 
thousand francs, with numerous perquisites. The 
agent-general of the clergy was a sort of treasurer, upon 
whom also devolved the duty of administering the revenues 
of the Church in France, which at that time were enor- 
mous. The Abbe Maurice became friends with M. de 
Calonne, the comptroller-general of finance, who left 
the State deeper in debt than he found it. M. de Calonne 
brought two men together who were born to understand 
each other, Mirabeau and Talleyrand. After an intimate 
connection they were for some time sundered by politics. 
One day, in the Constituent Assembly, Talleyrand was 
refuting an argument of Mirabeau who exclaimed: 

" Wait, I will put you in a tight place !" 

"Then you propose to embrace me!" 

They did, in fact, embrace. Their reconciliation was 
complete. When Mirabeau died he appointed Talley- 
rand one of his testamentary executors. 

In January, 1789, the Abbe de Perigord was created 
Bishop of Autun with twenty-four thousand francs pay, 
and the 14th of July, 1790, was selected by Louis XVI. 
to celebrate mass at the ceremony of federation. One 
is tempted to ask one's self, in view of the morals of the 
bishop of Autun being so well known, if there was not a 
hint of secret irony in the selection made by the King. 
The performance was extraordinary. Talleyrand, going 
up to the altar with two priests in attendance, bent over 
to La Fayette and whispered to him: 

"Now, please don't make me laugh." 

Besides this, the next day he wrote his mistress, the 



62 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

Countess de Flahaut, a letter in which he made game ol 
the ceremony in which he had acted as a bishop. Well- 
informed people — there are always plenty of them — 
have asserted that Mme. de Flahaut's children were 
Talleyrand's. Mme. de Flahaut was then 25 and Talley- 
rand 31. A few months after the mass I have mentioned, 
and just after the passing of the vote for the civil con- 
stitution of the clergy, he wrote this lady a note con- 
taining the following lines, which were true of the man's 
future statesmanship: 

"After all the vows we have made and broken, after 
having so often sworn fidelity to a constitution, to nature, 
to the law, to the king, to all sorts of things existing only 
in name, what can one oath more matter?" 

At this time of his life Talleyrand was constantly in 
debt, and often unable to meet his engagements. Upon 
his nomination to the bishopric he ordered a magnificent 
episcopal coach, which did him great credit, but for which 
he did not pay. After waiting a long time, his coach- 
maker at last came to the conclusion that he would post 
himself at his lordship's door every day, hat in hand, 
and would bow very low when the bishop got into his 
carriage. When he had been doing this for several days, 
Talleyrand spoke to him: 

"Who may you be, my friend?" 

" I am your coachmaker, my Lord. " 

"Ah! you are my coachmaker! And what does my 
coachmaker want?" 

"To be paid, my Lord." 

"Ah! you are my coachmaker, and you want to be 
paid ! My coachmaker shall be paid. " 

" But when, my Lord ? " 

"' Hm ! " observed the bishop, stretching himself out com- 
fortably in his new carriage, " how inquisitive you are !" 

He took the oath subscribing to the civil constitution of 
the clergy, and then, alleging his election as a member 




E."VEOUE I3'AITT:'17N 
D eput e cL Ant un 




MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 63 

of the Directory of Paris, presented his resignation from 
his episcopal see to the king. His part in the events of 
the loth of August, 1792, is well known. 

Impeached upon the discovery of his letters, and in- 
scribed on the general list of exiles, Talleyrand took good 
care not to come back to France, where his head would 
not have been safe on his shoulders. But he corresponded 
with people in France from London. He was ordered 
by the British government, as an exile under suspicion, 
to leave British territory within the space of five days. 
He left for the United States in March, 1794. There he 
remained nearly two years, while setting all his influence 
in motion among his friends, among whom Mme. de Stael 
was especially active, to have his name removed from 
the list of exiles. On the fourth of September, 1795, 
Chenier succeeded in inducing the Convention to issue 
a decree authorizing Talleyrand's return to France. He 
arrived in Paris in the spring of 1796, and about eighteen 
months later, through his own intrigues, through the 
friendship of Barras, and through the influence of Mme. 
de Stael and others, became minister of foreign affairs, 
in spite of Carnot's righteous and formidable opposition. 
It is stated that there was some strong language ex- 
changed between two of the directors of the Republic, on 
the subject of Talleyrand. 

"This rascal, " said Carnot, "will sell us all in the open 
market if he can gain anything by it !" 

" Well, whom has he sold so far?" asked Larevelliere, 

"His God, in the first place!" 

"He did not believe in Him." 

"Then, why did he serve Him? Next, he betrayed 
his King." 

" Have we any right to take him to task for that ?" 

"Listen, LareveUiere, compare me to the devil if you 
like, but never compare me to that man ! It would 
make me furious T' 



64 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

Talleyrand became minister notwithstanding. The 
help he needed to get into power he managed to dis- 
pense with when it came to staying there. From the 
moment of his promotion to the cabinet, he made it the 
main object to accumulate wealth. In the three years 
of his ministerial tenure he contrived to amass a con- 
siderable amount through the sale of patronage. The 
facts which came to light and the consequent scandal 
resulted in his removal from the secretaryship of foreign 
affairs in July, 1799. 

In the spring of that year I was ignorant of all these 
details when M. de la Rue asked me to speak to M. de 
Talleyrand for him. Glad enough to find an opportunity 
to satisfy my curiosity about the famous minister, I 
promised M. de la Rue to do my best to procure him an 
audience with M. de Talleyrand. Only, I begged him 
to wait two or three days for the execution of our plans. 
He left me delighted at having so quickly obtained the 
promise he wanted, having by no means expected such 
a favourable issue to his visit. 

To fulfil the promise made to M. de la Rue I had 
asked for an audience at the office of the minister of 
foreign affairs, which was granted without further ado. 

The amiable look which greeted me on my appearance 
in the minister's study restored to me all the confidence 
I had lost and without which a woman's personal ad- 
vantages can make no impression. What I had heard 
of M. de Talleyrand's penetration and extraordinary 
cleverness took me aback when I was confronted with 
him, although I usually did not suffer from a want of 
self-assurance. I wanted him to have a favourable 
opinion of me, yet I thought he must find me far below 
his intellectual level. In his bearing as well as in his 
face there was an atmosphere of suffering which con- 
trasted strangely with his bright conversation. The 
most exaggerated compliments I had hitherto been 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 65 

paid in society did not please my vanity half as much 
as a single word of praise from Talleyrand. 

"Madam," said the minister, "do you say that you 
have come to recommend some one ? Are you sure about 
the person's qualifications? Or did any one suppose 
that your presence here would be sufficient to endorse 
an unworthy claim?" 

" I do not know the petitioner personally, although I 
know something about the individual who asked me to 
present the petition. I thought that the most charming 
man in France would not like to hurt me with a refusal, 
and so I came. Do you decline to listen to me ? " 

"No, Madam, quite the contrary. But to grant 
what you wish to-day would be to deprive myself of the 
pleasure of another meeting. Allow me, therefore, to 
assign you another audience for a date a few days hence. " 

I then believed, in the innocence of my heart, that a 
minister's time must be very valuable. I made motion to 
withdraw. M. de Talleyrand kept me back a few min- 
utes more. I finally left more satisfied with myself 
than I had been for some time. 

After dinner that evening I retreated to my room to 
read my letters. I had given orders that no visitors 
should be admitted, intending to spend the rest of the 
evening alone. But soon the porter's wife came in with 
an anxious look on her face, saying that a lady had 
arrived who had insisted upon forcing her way into the 
house, in spite of my orders to the contrary. Scarcely 
had I found time to ask her the name of the intruder, 
when Mme. Tallien entered the room. She had come 
in spite of having been refused admission, upon the 
strength of the promise I had given her that I would 
see her at any time she chose. Mme. Tallien was an 
open-handed, charitable woman, and secretly did a lot 
of good among the poor. That very day she had gone 
to Passy in the strictest incognito to bring succour to a 



66 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

respectable family which had lost its entire fortune and 
also all of its bread-winners in the cause of the Revolu- 
tion. The ascendancy she exercised over Barras put her 
in a position to do good works of all kinds, and she cer- 
tainly always showed an unselfish and a disinterested 
spirit in this respect. But this very generosity of hers 
did not prevent her from being subjected to the in- 
gratitude of some of the people whom she had done 
most to help. 

We spent two hours walking in the garden in the light 
of the moon, and from the tree-shaded terrace could 
discern the picturesque quays of the Seine. The vener- 
able stream and its interesting associations gave Mme. 
Tallien room for her brilliant conversational gifts to 
display themselves, so that although she only left me 
at a late hour I regretted her departure. 

After she had gone I went back to my room and my 
correspondence. There was a letter from Mannheim 
which told me of a fresh exploit of General Ney. He 
had penetrated into Mannheim alone to gain intelligence 
as to the strength of the garrison. He found out all 
he wanted to know about the fortress, and five days 
later took possession of it, making his way in in the dead 
of night with a hundred and fifty men determined to 
conquer or die with him. The same letter contained 
an account of a very different affair. A young and 
beautiful German girl had come to implore the general's 
protection for her father's house, which the French 
soldiery threatened to pillage. Ney took no advantage 
of the girl, and sent her away after promising that her 
father's house would be spared. To those who jested with 
him on this subject he said that ^ he cared for nothing 
but spontaneous love, and that he never took by force 
what the heart did not freely offer. This I thought a 
most admirable thing and the act of a true hero. The 
thought shot into my mind: "At least I will let him 




BARRAS 

(Engraved from a Draining by Rafjet) 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 67 

know what a high opinion I have of him ! " Seizing my 
pen, I dashed off the following letter: 

"I obey the dictates of my heart without waiting for 
vain excuses. I am not familiar with the art of dis- 
guising my feelings. Besides, there is something in the 
bottom of my heart which tells me if what I am doing 
offends against the conventional rules, it may find favour 
in the sight of a man of such noble honesty as yours. 
Only once have I seen you with my eyes, and your 
picture is engraved in my soul. Always with you in 
thought, I have trembled whenever you were in peril, 
I have rejoiced at all your triumphs, and I have enthusias- 
tically applauded every account of your fine deeds. My 
position in the world is splendid: there are women who 
envy me. I would give it all up in a moment to become 
a partner with you in danger. Respect and gratitude 
have bound me to General Moreau. To make confes- 
sion of it in a letter such as this, is that not running the 
risk of making myself contemptible before you? But I 
feel quite unable to choke the irresistible cry of my 
heart. In making this avowal of the sentiment which 
destroys my peace, I have no other purpose than of 
letting you know that far away from you is a woman 
to whom your fame is no less dear than it is to yourself. " 

I was in a great state of agitation while writing this 
letter. Just before, I had written Moreau a few commo- 
place pages— my weekly letter to him. I put the mis- 
sives in the wrong envelopes. Moreau received the 
letter intended for Ney, and Ney that which ought to 
have gone to Moreau. I was soon to learn what a fatal 
mistake I had made. From Ney's own mouth I learnt 
what a curious impression was made upon him by a 
rather cold letter, which betrayed no more than a long, 
humdrum intimacy. But what must ]\Ioreau's grief 
have been when he held in his hands the absolute proof 
that my heart belonged to him no longer ! He sent me 



68 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

not a word of reproach. He simply stopped writing to 
me. 

In leaving General Moreau, I took the final step which 
lost me whatever claim I still had upon the considera- 
tion of society, and whatever esteem was due to me from 
the rest of the world. These memoirs are my confession. 
May you who read it be warned by my sad example. 
Always cling to the truth ! Fly from falsehood and 
dissimulation ! The fruit of sin is very bitter. 



CHAPTER VI 

BEAUMARCHAIS — ATTEMPTED SUPPRESSION OP THE 
"marriage of FIGARO" — THE SEVEN OF DIAMONDS — 
BEAUMARCHAIS AS A HUMORIST IN REAL LIFE — DRA- 
MATIC ASPIRATIONS OF THE "CONTEMPORARY" 

MOREAU'S DISAPPROVAL OF THEM — FIRST IMPRES- 
SIONS OF BONAPARTE — THE CONSPIRACY OF THE i8tH 
OF BRUMAIRE — THE NEW CONSTITUTION AND THE 
CONSULS — MOREAU MARRIES A FRIEND OF JOSEPHINE 
DE BEAUHARNAIS — A PAIR OF SHREWS. 

While waiting to select an apartment, I lived at the 
Hotel Rue Richelieu. I found a very pretty house in 
the Rue Taitbout, with an apartment, which, though 
comfortable and handsomely furnished, yet in no way 
approached the sumptuous dwelling I had before occu- 
pied. But I was satisfied with anything so long as I 
was not tied to Moreau. My delight was immense to 
find myself established in new lodgings. I was free; 
I was at home. 

During this year (1798), and the spring of 1799, I 
often went to see old Beaumarchais, who had recently 
come back to France, and who treated me with great 
kindness. The illustrious dramatist inhabited a charm- 
ing house which he had had built at the end of the Boule- 
vard Saint-Antoine. Installed in his new residence in 
1 791, he had been obliged to leave it the next year. In- 
formed against, thrown into prison, his goods confiscated, 

69 



70 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

he only escaped death by going into exile, whence he 
did not return until the beginning of 1794, when his 
name was taken off the list of persons banished. It 
always gave me genuine pleasure to meet him. This 
man, who was so tremendous in his wrath, this precursor 
of the French Revolution, to which his "Marriage of 
Figaro," the sequel to "The Barber of Seville," was a 
literary firebrand, was in private life one of the most 
harmless and gentlest of men. Strongly endowed with 
domestic affection, and very sensible of it, he was adored 
by his family and his servants. He lived surrounded 
by true and devoted friends, who remained faithful 
to him for many long years, without failing. His love 
for his family was remarkable* He never ceased, even 
when his position was most embarrassing, from being 
the guardian angel and the support of his relations, 
bestowing gifts and allowances upon his father, his 
sisters, his nephews, his nieces, and even very distant 
relatives. Upon his death the heirs found in the docu- 
ments he left behind records of more than nine hundred 
thousand francs lent without security to artists, actors, 
men of letters, and persons in ill-luck belonging to all 
shades of society. Everyone with a scheme, ruined 
noblemen, and all needy persons of his acquaintance 
made a constant siege upon his exchequer. He was 
obliged to turn a large number of them away, who there- 
upon of course became his bitter enemies, like for in- 
stance Mirabeau, like the pamphleteer Rivarol, whose 
wife and child Beaumarchais fed after they had been 
abandoned by that champion of the throne and the 
altar. 

Beaumarchais was a most engaging talker. His con- 
versation was studded with interesting anecdotes. He 
one day told me the story of the performance of "The 
Marriage of Figaro." His persistent enemy, Suard, who 
had been royal censor since 1774, had done everything 




AUGUSTE DE BEAUMARCHAIS 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 71 

in his power to prevent the performance of this play. 
It was given in spite of his efforts. Suard revenged 
himself by publishing in the Journal de Paris a letter in 
which Beaumarchais ' pledge to make over the whole of 
his author's royalty to wet-nurses in distress was held 
up to ridicule, and made the subject of scandalous com- 
ment. It seems that the Count de Provence, who later 
on became Louis XVIII., and who fancied himself as a 
literary light, had collaborated in this letter. Beau- 
marchais, well aware who the exalted collaborator was, 
but none the less wounded by the letter, replied with 
some written sarcasms about certain great French battles, 
which brought the laugh on his side. The first prince 
of the blood on this occasion behaved with a singular 
want of generosity. Alleging that Beatimarchais had 
insulted him, he asked his brother, during a game of 
cards with him, for an order for Beaumarchais' arrest. 
Louis XVI. wrote on the back of a seven of diamonds 
an order to have Beaumarchais taken, not to the Bastille, 
a State prison of course too fine for such a scribbler, but 
to the house of correction at Saint-Lazare. The drama- 
tist was not kept there long, however. The public was 
indignant at the arrest, and the voice of popular anger 
was so loud that Beaumarchais was released a few days 
after his incarceration. At the performance of "The 
Marriage of Figaro," which was given the same day, a 
tempest of applause greeted this sentence in one of the 
monologues : 

"When they cannot subdue a man's spirit, they take 
revenge by misusing him. " 

Beaumarchais entertained a profound admiration for 
Napoleon, and always spoke of him with enthusiasm. 
"It is not for history but for eternity," said he during 
the Egyptian campaign, " that this young man is working. 
He transcends probability; his ideas and actions are 
all marvel. When I read his bulletins I think I am 



72 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

reading a chapter of the 'Arabian Nights' Entertain- 
ments.' ", 

On one occasion, when I was visiting him, Beaumar- 
chais told me what happened to him with Fabre (d' Eg- 
lantine), author of "Philinte," a play supposed to be 
the sequel to Moli^re's "Misanthrope," and the writer 
of other less-known pieces. Before the Revolution, 
Fabre, an obscure actor and entirely unlaiown author, 
had been favoured by Beaumarchais with a loan of 25 
loins. I have already mentioned how generous he was. 
Several years went by. Beaumarchais heard no more 
of his 25 lotiis. But I cannot say the same for Fabre 
d' Eglantine, who had become an important politician 
and a member of various committees. One day when 
Beaumarchais was coming out of a government office, 
he met his old debtor on the stairs, also about to leave 
the building. Fabre was so condescending as to recognize 
Beaumarchais. He went even further. A fine carriage 
was waiting for him below. Beaumarchais was walking. 

"May I drive you anywhere?" Fabre glibly asked 
the author of the "Marriage of Figaro." 

Beaumarchais accepted the invitation, mentioning 
the place where he desired to be put down. Then, as 
the other man talked of everything excepting the 2 5 lonis 
he had once borrowed, Beaumarchais at last said, after 
attentively looking the handsome carriage all over : 

"This is a beautiful carriage you have here. Citizen — 
splendid horses, magnificent harness. Now, I should 
like to bet that all this must have cost you more than 25 
louts \ I think " 

" Here we are at your destination, I believe !" suddenly 
interrupted Fabre d' Eglantine, pulling the coachman's 
rope and opening the carriage door, while he excused 
himself from taking Beaumarchais any further. The 
dramatist found himself standing in the road, with the 
carriage rolling rapidly away. 



MEMOIRS OP A CONTEMPORARY 73 

A few months later Fabre ascended the scaffold — 
"without ever having paid me back my 25 louis, poor 
fellow ! " Beaumarchais smilingly wound up his little 
story. 

For a long time I had not known so sweet an awaken- 
ing as that of the first morning in my new apartment. 
After rising, I walked about my rooms in my dressing- 
gown and with my hair down, feeling like a queen in 
my small domain. I happened to see myself in a large 
mirror, and seized with a sudden impulse I arranged my 
hair, gathered my dressing-gown about me, and began 
to recite a passage from the tragedy of "Iphigenia. " 
My maid, Adelaide, who happened to come in during 
this performance, loudly exclaimed : 

" Oh ! how lovely you would look on the stage !" 

What do resolutions count for after all? Upon this 
absurd dramatic bed-room triumph, a wild thought shot 
into my brain : what if I went upon the stage ! 

I thought of a means of finding out as soon as possible 
what the chances would be in my favour. Mole, whose 
acquaintance I had made at Lyons, was then in Paris. I 
wrote to ask him for an interview. His answer was as 
polite and amiable as possible, and it was to the effect 
that he would expect me the same day. Mole accorded 
me a most flattering reception, and even after learning 
why and how I had left Chaillot, giving up a social 
position and a name, he was no whit less polite nor 
affable towards me. I broached the subject without 
diffidence. Mole, in his habitually pleasant way, gave 
me substantial encouragement. He made me recite 
several speeches from different parts which I knew by 
heart. He came to the conclusion that I should be 
more apt to impersonate queens than young princesses 
in the classical drama. He spoke to me in a fatherly 
manner, and ended the interview by asking me to return 
in a few days. By that time, he said, he would have 



74 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

found me some one to rehearse with. He escorted me 
to my carriage with the delightful courtesy and urbanity 
proper to the practice of his profession. 

My head being turned by what I had heard from Mole, 
I insisted on beginning my dramatic studies at once. 
That very evening I went with Adelaide to see Talma in 
"Macbeth." My dress was of the plainest kind. In- 
stead of wishing to attract attention, I tried to avoid it. 
Nevertheless, as I walked through the peristyle and the 
corridors of the Theatre-Frangais, I observed some 
whisperings among some people who seemed to recog- 
nize me, less on account of my dress than by reason 
of my individual look, in which the simplicity of my gar- 
ment made no change. 

I was sitting in a box on the floor of the theatre with 
Adelaide, waiting for the curtain to rise, when the door 
of the box opened and someone came in. It was M. Le 
Couteulx de Canteleu. I had met him on the occasion 
of my first visit to Paris, but since my return had not 
had an opportunity of seeing him. He was very fond 
of Moreau, who had several times invited him to Passy 
and had presented him to me there, I found great pleas- 
ure in his society. At the time of which I write, M. de 
Canteleu would have been regarded as an old man. I 
liked him because of his cordiality, and took pains to 
evoke his friendship. On this evening, however, he 
seemed preoccupied and disinclined to talk. After a few 
minutes he made it evident that he proposed to with- 
draw, when I asked him if he would not accept a seat 
in my box. No sooner had he assented by a bow, than 
the curtain rose. Talma, the grand object of my dra- 
matic admiration, appeared on the scene. I drank in 
every word that came from his lips. When the curtain 
had gone down I resumed conversation with M, de Can- 
teleu. From a few words that escaped him I learnt that 
he was informed as to my rupture with Moreau, and 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 75 

that this was the cause of his silence. I asked him to 
speak frankly. He said: 

"Then you have left Chaillot and Moreau?" 

I hung my head without answering. 

" Oh, how sorry I am ! " said M. de Canteleu. " Return 
to that heart which is so worthy of you ! Moreau, who 
can love as no one else can, will be as ready to forgive 
as he is able to love. " 

This language and these accents from a man who 
might have been my father, or my old familiar friend, 
affected though they did not convince me. M. de Can- 
teleu made me promise to meet him in the fine garden 
belonging to his house, to talk about the general towards 
whom he felt so strong an attachment and so lively an 
interest, both of which were well merited. 

In spite of my frivolity, I was deeply stirred by this 
conversation. I came away from the play sad and 
thoughtful, having almost, in fact, come to my senses, 
and resolving to go to the Dutch ambassador as soon as 
possible to ask him to intercede for me with my family. 
The next morning I learnt that Moreau had arrived, and 
that Ney was expected. My heart told me that once 
more fate had taken a new turn. 

After Moreau' s arrival in Paris I trembled at the very 
thought of seeing him, and yet I felt the need of doing so. 
Did not delicacy suggest that I surrender to him the 
authorization to draw upon the funds deposited with 
M. de la Rue? My sense of honour inspired me with 
courage to write to him on this matter. 

The day he paid me a visit his reproaches were so mild 
and so kind, and his sadness was so gentle, that I be- 
sought him with repentant sobs to give me back his 
friendship. 

"My friendship, Elzelina ! That sentiment may be 
enough for you, but it is no return for love, and I love 
you — you, who love another!" Thus replied Moreau. 



76 MEMOIRS OP A CONTEMPORARY 

I was unable to answer a word. Moreau hereupon 
produced a letter. It was that which I had written to 
Ney, and sent by mistake to him. 

"Elzelina, " said Moreau, " I do not understand this 
passionate outburst you made to Ney, in which you 
seem to have forgotten your womanly dignity altogether. " 

"There is no explanation. He hardly knows me, and 
will probably never love me." 

"Listen," Moreau went on, "this is the last time that 
I shall refer to the subject. Ney will never make you 
happy. I know him and I admire him, but there is 
no happiness for a woman with him, in spite of his splen- 
did qualities and his fiery soul. Fierce caprice is all 
that a woman can expect of him, and this is very differ- 
ent from the durable affection that women ask for." 

After speaking to me for some length in this strain, 
in his attempt to bring me back to reason, but without 
result, Moreau bade me good-bye : 

"God bless you! I shall never see you again! But 
you will never be a stranger to me. As a friend of your 
family I shall consider that I have a right to watch over 
you. Before I go I shall see to it that you are provided 
for." 

"I beg you to spare me such a humiliation !" I cried. 
"You have done too much for me already. Take back 
these witnesses of your generosity and your goodness." 
With which I handed him the papers conferring such 
extensive powers upon me to make use of his name and 
fortune. After yielding to my insistence on this point 
he took his departure. 

In this interview, that lasted two hours, I had con- 
fessed everything to him except my plan to take up the 
dramatic career. I remember I asked him in vain to 
give me back my portrait. It was a pretty miniature 
by Isabey's brush, and the general refused to give it up. 
I had also had the honour of being represented in the 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 77 

form of a statue. The talented sculptor Lemot had 
reproduced my features to such advantage that the 
work excited great and general admiration in the artist's 
studio and at the Louvre. He modelled me reclining 
on a couch in the attitude of Cleopatra. Moreau, who 
had strict views of female modesty, had first censured 
what he called my shameless vanity. He affected dis- 
dain for this artistic production. But sometimes men 
are very much pleased with what they have before 
criticised. When Moreau at last expressed his desire 
to own the statue which he had originally inveighed 
against, it was too late. I had already promised it to 
M. de Talleyrand. 

General Moreau wished me to write to him. In 
deference to his wishes I did so, and in a respectful 
manner told him of my wish to enter upon the dramatic 
profession, saying that by this means I hoped to gain 
an honest livelihood for myself. I shall not record his 
answer out of regard for his reputation. I may say, 
however, that in reading it I was dumbfounded to see 
how sometimes the vulgarest prejudices may possess 
even the best educated people. The stage, and all who 
belonged to it and did it honour, he characterized in 
terms of insulting contempt in his letter. He went on 
to threaten me with deprivation of my liberty if I per- 
sisted in my extravagant ideas, I replied in ironical 
language to his reproofs to me for having forgotten my 
good birth and for derogating from my rank, in saying 
how well such remarks soimded from a valiant champion 
of republican equality ! My letter remained unanswered, 
Moreau having left Paris that same day. 

While I had been passing my time without concern or 
care, certain grave happenings foreshadowed by M. Le 
Couteulx had come about. Four days after Moreau's 
visit the events of the i8th and 19th of Brumaire of 
the year VII. (the 9th and loth of November,* 1797) had 



78 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

brought with them a change of government. Instead 
of five directors there were now three provisionary con- 
suls: Bonaparte, Roger-Ducos, Sieyes, the last two 
being soon replaced by Cambaceres and Lebrun. France 
had found a master at last. 

Up till then I had seen Napoleon but once. His 
appearance — he was extremely slim at the time I men- 
tion — had differed so much from my*- conception of a 
hero, that my first impression of him was not at all 
agreeable. The negligence with which he let his straight 
hair fall over his face, his excessive leanness, and his 
almost habitual untidiness in dress would have repelled 
me had it been anyone else. But the fire shining in his 
eye and his keen penetrating glance compelled consider- 
ation, and gave promise of something unusual in this 
young man. 

At the change of government Moreau had gladly ac- 
cepted a secondary part. Hating the Directory, he 
readily lent his aid to Bonaparte, for -whom he had no 
liking. He only understood his mistake after things 
had got beyond remedy. Once more he was a victim 
of his vacillation and his indecision of character. But 
it was too late then: a page of history cannot be 
blotted out. 

The conspiracy of the i8th and 19th of Brumaire, the 
transfer of the debates to Saint-Cloud, and the handing 
over of the command of the army in Paris to Napoleon 
with extraordinary powers, had been effected with the 
complicity of three of the directors out of five: Sieyes, 
Barras, and Roger-Ducos. The president of the Direc- 
tory, Gohier, and his colleague. General Moulins, were 
left out of the conspiracy. Bonaparte showed great 
cleverness in the appointment he gave his rival. He 
entrusted Moreau with the command of a body of 500 
men charged with the military occupation of the Lux- 
embourg palace, the headquarters of the government. 







{From an Engraviiig by Bonneville) 




LEBRl'X, THIRD CUXSl'L 
{Drawn by Lacanchie, Engraved by Monin) 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 79 

These troops were also to keep Gohier and Moulins 
in custody, and were to act as substitutes for the guard 
of the Directory, which was stationed in the Tuileries. 
This guard of the Directory formed the nucleus of the 
consular guard, which afterwards became the imperial 
guard. Moreau was thus, in the eyes of the public, made 
a jailer. On the i8th of Brumaire the directors who 
were on General Bonaparte's side left the Luxembourg 
early in the morning. Siey^s, who that day sat on a 
horse for the only time in his life, and Roger-Ducos, who 
was on horseback also, but a better rider than Siey6s, 
took their letters of resignation at a trot to the "Coimcil 
of the Ancients" sitting at the Tuileries. Barras, after 
making a pretence of yielding to force, sent his to Napo- 
leon during the morning by his secretary. The re- 
maining occurrences of the i8th and 19th are too well 
known to need repetition here. 

The new constitution, known as the constitution of 
the year VII, was promulgated on the 22nd of Frimaire 
(December 13th, 1799). By this constitution the execu- 
tive power was placed in the hands of three consuls, the 
first two elected for ten years and the third for five, all 
with the right of re-election. They were Bonaparte, 
Cambacer^s and Lebrun. The first consul nominated 
the ministers, promulgated the laws, selected the mem- 
bers of the Council of State and the diplomatic envoys, 
made promotions in the army and the navy, and ap- 
pointed civil officials. He was paid a salary of five 
hundred thousand francs. The other two consuls had 
nothing but a consultative voice in affairs, and only one 
hundred and sixty thousand francs a year. The Council 
of State proposed the laws; the Tribunate discussed 
them; the Legislative Assembly ratified or rejected 
them; the Senate, composed of life members, ensured 
their integrity and execution. 

From the beginning of the Consulate Moreau sulked 



8o MEMOIRS OP A CONTEMPORARY 

openly. In the spring of 1799 he had married Mile. 
Hulot, a Creole of the island of Martinique. This lady's 
mother had formerly been acquainted with Mme. de 
Beauhaniais, who became Mme. Bonaparte, and who 
indirectly brought about the match with Moreau. Mme. 
Moreau was one of Steibelt's best pupils. She played 
remarkably well on the piano, could accompany her 
own singing on the harp, painted miniatures, and spoke 
several languages. She was rather pretty, with a slim, 
pale face. She was conspicuous for the apathy common 
to most Creoles, as well as for their grace. This quality 
had fascinated Moreau upon meeting her in society. 
Mme. and Mile. Hulot were regular frequenters of Mme. 
Bonaparte's house. After Moreau's marriage, which 
took place during the Egyptian campaign, they ceased 
from visiting there. 

When Bonaparte had become first consul, Mme. Hulot, 
instead of exerting herself to pacify Moreau, who was 
already sufficiently wrought up against his rival, took 
the contrary, deplorable part. Jealous, arrogant, bitter, 
and tmendurable as she was, she incessantly reproached 
her son-in-law with having assisted Napoleon's cause 
on the 1 8th of Binimaire. She succeeded in bringing 
about a quarrel between the two men by obliging Moreau 
to refuse repeated invitations to dinner, to evening 
parties, and to balls, at Malmaison in the first place, and 
afterwards at the Ttiileries, which invitations were sent 
by the first consul and by Josephine to General and Mme. 
Moreau, and which they at last grew tired of sending in 
vain. 

In Napoleon's opinion both mother and daughter 
were noxious creatures. * ' They are Moreau's bad angels, ' ' 
he said, "and their influence will do him great harm.'.' 
And this view of the first consul was ultimately verified. 

Mme. Hulot and her daughter distinguished themselves 
by worse and worse impudences. Having come to the 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 8i 

Tuileries one day, and not having been able to see Bona- 
parte, who was busy with the Council of State, Mme. 
Moreau went away after an hour's waiting, making a 
great fuss. She exclaimed aloud as she left: 

"The wife of the victor of Hohenlinden did not come 
here to sit about anterooms ! The Republican directors 
would have been more polite ! '' 



CHAPTER VII 

POWER OF THE BANKERS AND ARMY CONTRACTORS — 
THEIR INTRIGUES— OPULENCE OF THE BANKER OUV- 

RARD FESTIVITIES AT HIS ESTATE A SYMPOSIUM 

OF BEAUTY AND BRAINS BONAPARTE 'S CONTEMPT 

FOR MONEY FASHIONABLE DRESSING UNDER THE 

DIRECTORY LUCIEN BONAPARTE, MINISTER OF HOME 

AFFAIRS — CHAPTAL, HIS SUCCESSOR — IMPUDENT M. 
DE MONTMORENCY — THE AUTHORESS' FIASCO ON THE 
STAGE OF THE THEATRE-FRANCAIS. 

During the concluding months of 1 799 and the spring of 
t8oo, I continued my life of independence, taking lessons 
in declamation at irregular intervals, visiting and re- 
ceiving my friends, riding out on horseback, and fre- 
quently going to the play at the Theatre-Frangais espe- 
cially, where I was now acquainted with most of the actors, 
and at the Opera-Comique. Otherwise, my social con- 
nections were chiefly with the world of business and 
finance, which at that time was conspicuous in Paris for 
its lavish, prodigal style of living. The financiers, the 
manufacturers of arms and ammimition, and the purveyors 
of army-supplies cut a great figure towards the end of 
the Directory and at the beginning of the Consulate. 
Later on. Napoleon, who considered that excessive wealth 
accumulated in the hands of individuals gave rise to 
speculations injurious and even dangerous to the public 
weal, never allowed the kings of commerce to take rank 
with his generals. 

83 



84 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

Regnault de Saint-Jean-d'Angely, before I left Paris, 
mentioned to me a memorandum concerning the finan- 
ciers, which had been composed by Fouche for Bonaparte, 
and was subsequently presented to the Council of State. 
The minister of police in this document informed the first 
consul that the bankers of Paris juggled the prices of 
public bonds up and down as they pleased, by virtue of 
the enormous capital at their command. Between them 
they controlled about a hundred millions of francs in 
cash and a credit of the same size. One of them, Haller 
by name, had suggested a financial scheme to Bonaparte 
which had been rejected. He had also prophesied that 
if his advice was not taken government securities would 
drop, and that Bonaparte would be held responsible for 
it. In spite of said refusal, before Brumaire Napoleon 
had been glad enough to avail himself of an offer from 
the banker Collot to draw upon him to the extent of a 
million francs. The same banker also lent Joseph Bona- 
parte a very large sum when he purchased Morfontaine. 

After the i8th of Brumaire Napoleon found the public 
exchequer empty, and tried to borrow twelve millions of 
dollars from the Dutch, upon the security of timber lands 
belonging to the State. Payment was to be made at the 
end of a year. Marmont was sent to Amsterdam, fur- 
nished with full authority to act for the French Govern- 
ment, and M. de Semonville, the French Minister to Hol- 
land, was ordered to second Marmont's efforts. In spite 
of long continued negotiations the special envoy failed 
to accomplish his purpose. Bonaparte for a long time 
bore malice against Holland for refusing to lend him 
money. 

After Brumaire the 19th of the year VIII, as I said, 
during the first part of the Consulate, the bankers and 
the people who supplied the troops maintained the same 
place of importance and influence which they had held 
tinder the Directory. They were constantly^ before the 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 85 

public eye, composing as they did a section of the fash- 
ionable society of the day. Bonaparte called the con- 
tractors and their kind "the leprosy of the nation." At 
the beginning of the Consulate they really constituted 
a formidable power, with all their agents and all their 
clients. They had more or less had the Directory under 
their thumb, and they attempted to make the Consulate 
their tool in the same way. But the first consul sent 
them all about their business. Upon his accession he 
had found himself besieged by the wives of the contrac- 
tors. All of them were charming and highly fashionable 
women. For those two qualities the female folk of these 
schemers were conspicuous, which fact entered largely 
into the success of their speculations. It was resolved 
to exclude these ladies from the society of the Tuileries, 
whose ranks were meagre enough. The nobility was 
already tabooed in deference to public opinion. When, 
therefore, these others were shut out for the sake of 
raising the moral tone of society, there was not much 
society left. Hence the consular court was for some 
time a sort of magic-lantern show with mixed pictures 
and a great many changes. The public was angry with 
the army contractors and purveyors of supplies, because, 
while they were making immense forttines, the troops 
were actually suffering from want. Napoleon showed 
great severity towards malfeasance of this sort. Ouvrard, 
one of the worst offenders, he caused to be imprisoned 
more than once during his reign as emperor. 

In the early days of the consulate Ouvrard's power 
was at its height, and on his splended property at Raincy 
gorgeous festivities were enacted, as to one of which I was 
given the details by a friend who was present. Raincy, 
situated some four miles from Paris, had before the Revo- 
lution belonged to the Duke d'Orleans. But Ouvrard, 
vying in extravagance with a pre-Revolutionary farmer- 
general of revenues, had Raincy improved and embel- 



86 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

lished until it became a veritable paradise. The estate 
bordered on the forest of Bondy, famous as the erstwhile 
retreat of robbers, which circumstance gave rise to ma- 
licious remarks among Parisian wits. 

The grand affair in question was held in honour of the 
illustrious Fox, the English minister who was so good a 
friend to France, and whose death, a few months later, 
was an irreparable loss to both countries, which under 
his rule would have remained at peace, instead of becom- 
ing furious foes. Lord Holland and Lady Holland, a 
niece of Fox, were with the great statesman. The flower 
of Parisian society had been invited to meet them. Mme. 
Tallien, the then Egeria of the banker, did the honours. 
There was a late breakfast, served with great magnificence 
in a large orangery, then a hunt in the preserves of the 
estate, then a concert at which the principal singers of 
the opera and of the Opera-Comique were heard, and 
then a ball on the lawn. Lady Holland gained universal 
liking through her lovable disposition and her dignified 
deportment. She proved herself in every sense a great 
lady. Her reserve, tempered with kindliness, contrasted 
strikingly with the animation and mirth of the young 
women who surrounded her and showered the attention 
upon her she so well deserved. Of the many ladies of 
the party there were the Princess Dolgorouki and Mme. 
Diwoff , two very fashionable Russians ; the superb Mme. 
Visconti, the particular friend of General Alexander 
Berthier, who for a long time entertained a strong passion 
for her; little Mme. Marmont; the Marchioness de Luc- 
chesini, the Prussian envoy's wife, and a number of others 
whom I must leave unmentioned. Mme. Visconti, Mme. 
Marmont, and Mme. de Lucchesini followed the chase 
on horseback. Princess Dolgorouki, who was much 
attached to the French capital, was an intimate friend 
of Mme. Vigee-Lebrun, the famous painter,— who made 
a portrait of her, — and was one of the most beautiful 




ELIZABETH, LADY HOLLAND 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 87 

women of her day. Although she was then nearly fifty, 
she was still very handsome. Potemkin, long a favourite 
of Catherine the Great, had once, so gossip said, been 
consumed for the charms of the princess with an ardent 
flam.e to which she had been unresponsive. This only 
by the way. As for distinguished men, besides Fox and 
Lord Holland, there were Erskine, Adair, General Fitz- 
patrick, the Marquis de Lucchesini, Generals IMoreau, 
Berthier, Lannes, Marmont, Junot, Prince Dolgorouki, 
M. de la Harpe, and M. de Narbonne. 

Moreau and Fox, glad to find themselves in each other's 
company, conversed at great length. The general felt 
flattered by the good opinion the English had of him. 
He talked freely with Fox, telling him about his cam- 
paigns, and shaking off his usual diffidence and reser\^e. 
He even was complimented upon "telling the story of 
his campaigns with the same skill with which he won 
them." 

So much for the brilliant gathering at Raincy. 

Bonaparte had a supreme contempt for money in itself. 
At the first official meeting of the provisional consuls, 
Siey^s went mysteriously to the door to see if nobody 
was within hearing. Then coming back to his colleague, 
he pleasantly observed to him, as he pointed to a chest of 
drawers : 

"Do you see that fine piece of furniture? You prob- 
ably do not suspect its value?" 

"It is an historical article," said Bonaparte. "Was 
it used by Louis XVI.?" 

" That is not it at all, " replied Sieyes. " I will tell you 
what I mean. It contains eight hundred thousand francs ! 
When we were directors we thought it quite likely that 
one of us might have to go back into private life without 
a farthing, which would have been most unsatisfactory. 
We therefore invented this little savings-box, from which 
every one of us who retired would draw something. Now 



88 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

that there are no directors left, here we are — owners of 
all this money ! What shall we do with it ?" 

Bonaparte, seeing through his associate's idea, an- 
swered : 

"If information reaches me of this, the money will go 
into the public treasury. But while I am not informed 
of it, and consequently have no knowledge of it, you and 
Ducos, who have been directors, can divide it between 
you. Only, I advise you to lose no time, for to-morrow 
it may be too late. " 

Enough said, thought his two colleagues. Siey^s kept 
six hundred thousand francs for himself, and sent only 
two hundred thousand to poor Ducos, who grumbled at 
this unfair division. He wanted to complain to the first 
consul, who however stopped him short. 

"Arrange it between yourselves," said he, "because 
if the affair is reported to me you will be obliged to give 
all the money up." 

When I left Moreau I assumed the name of Saint-Elme, 
which I have kept ever since. To this name I prefixed 
that of Ida, of which my father had always been fond. 
So I forever quitted my respectable family name, which 
now remains unconnected with any of the events of my 
troublous and adventurous career. 

I secured the furniture I had left at Chaillot, took a 
fine apartment, and began to keep house on a brilliant 
and extravagant scale. Being so foolish in every respect, 
was it likely that I should avoid recklessness and ex- 
travagance? My clothes especially cost me large sums. 
The dress worn at the close of the Directory was usually 
a very long muslin or cotton tunic, trimmed with bands 
of embroidered cloth — silk being then quite out of favour, 
— and secured by a girdle at the bosom. This tunic, 
which covered the form without concealing it, showed 
its every perfection at the slightest movement of the 
body. A shawl thrown loosely about the neck completed 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 89 

this costume, — this most graceful costume I may add, — 
which I have never heard criticised by any well-shaped 
woman, and which was only called indecent by those 
whose objections to it were founded on motives having 
nothing to do with modesty. The headdress and foot- 
gear were imitations of the fashion in vogue during the 
Augustan era. A purple net supported the hair at the back ; 
in front it was kept in place by a golden circlet adorned 
with cameos. On the feet were sandals bound on by 
purple ligatures, between the spaces of which the leg — 
clad in flesh-coloured tights — ^was visible; rings were 
worn on the toes ; the shoulders were partly covered by 
short, divided sleeves, whence the arm protruded at 
three-quarters length; above the elbow the arm was set 
off by a broad, gold bracelet, richly bejewelled. Over the 
tunic which bore a cameo brooch upon the bosom, the 
wearers of this dress had a purple robe, which they some- 
times let flow in the manner of a tragedy queen, or which 
they otherwise wrapped about them in statue-like folds. 
Thus did Madame Tallien and her fashionable friends 
exhibit themselves in the drawing-rooms and at the 
theatres, in costumes almost identical with those in 
which Mme. Vestris and Mile. Raucourt appeared on 
the stage. After the performance, crowds would gather 
at the door of the theatre to see these modern Aspasias 
come out, or "wonderful women" as they were called, 
and of whom I was one. 

I had been enrolled in the company of the Theatre- 
Frangais, was an accepted "student," and was sure of a 
start. But the real difficulties yet lay before me. In 
order to overcome them hard work was to be done. I 
must confess, to my shame however, that I did very little 
work indeed. Trusting to my excellent memory I took 
no serious pains in learning anything by heart. But I 
was aware that it might be useful to me to know the 
minister of home affairs, who as such had jurisdiction 



90 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

over the theatres. The minister, Lucien Bonaparte, 
treated me kindly, and, later on, informally. He was a 
clever man. Only, I thought the expression of his face 
haughty and disagreeable, even when he was endeavour- 
ing to be pleasant. In the evenings he held receptions 
at his official residence. There was music and walking 
in the garden, and blindman's buff. Sometimes there 
were half-a-dozen women and Lucien alone with one 
male friend. These parties I found queer rather than 
amusing, and avoided them as far as I was able without 
giving offence. 

When Lucien was sent to Spain as ambassador, M. 
Chaptal took his place. His newly appointed excellency, 
instead of cutting his predecessor's patronage short, 
was good enough to continue it. He settled a date for 
my first appearance and had a liberal sum paid me to 
meet the expenses of my theatrical wardrobe. Even 
before taking up his abode in the ministerial mansion, 
M. Chaptal did me the honour of inviting me to give a 
duologue with Lafont at his house. Imagine the ap- 
plause of a roomful of people under the incentive of 
a new minister's approval ! I really succeeded very well 
on this occasion. 

I always remained grateful to M. Chaptal for his good- 
ness to me. After he had given up his minister's post, — 
upon his own desire, — in which he was succeeded by 
Champagny, the French ambassador at Vienna, I paid 
him several visits, which he seemed to appreciate warmly. 
Official letters of resignation rarely give the true motive 
that underlie them. Chaptal gave as a reason for retiring 
his wish to resume his pursuit of industrial chemistry. 
As a fact, Napoleon had purposely humiliated his minister 
in a flagrant manner, no one ever knew why. An actress 
of the Theatre-Frangais was involved. M. Chaptal had 
for some time entertained relations of intimacy with Mile. 
Bourgoing, who belonged to that theatre, and for whom 




LUCIEN BONAPARTE 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 91 

his attachment was deep and sincere. One night M. 
Chaptal was at work with Napoleon, when suddenly 
Mile. Bourgoing was announced, who had been sum- 
moned by Bonaparte. 'Twas a pre-arranged dramatic 
stroke. M. Chaptal at once thrust his papers into his 
portfolio, and went away. The same night he sent Napo- 
leon his resignation, which was promptly accepted, Chap- 
tal being at the same time created a senator. 

From time to time I also went to visit M. de Talley- 
rand. One day, as I was leaving his house, I was accosted 
by M. Mathieu de Montmorency, who poured out his re- 
grets at not having seen me for so long. 

"But, Sir," I said, "I have not the privilege of your 
acquaintance. '\ 

"How can anyone who has once seen Mme. Moreau 
ever forget her?" 

I attempted to put a stop to further deferential com- 
pliments by telling him that the name he was bestowing 
on me was not mine. I informed him that I only laid 
claim to the more modest title of a student at the Theatre- 
Frangais. This statement seemed to make M. de Mont- 
morency think his position on the carriage step too re- 
spectful. He jumped into the carriage without further 
ado, and sat down beside me. 

"Where do you expect to be taken to, Sir?" I asked 
indignantly. 

" Oh, to your house, I hope, lovely lady !" 

I invited him to get out immediately, in a tone that 
brooked no reply. He appeared to be surprised, and got 
out without saying a word, rather crestfallen, to say truth. 
He had the good grace, at any rate, to bear me no malice 
because of the blow at his vanity. He was present in a 
stage-box at my first appeareance, and applauded me. 
But when I remember how this young scapegrace was 
afterwards one of the strongest pillars of monarchy and 
the church and a champion of high morality, I cannot re- 
frain from smiling. 



92 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

The day of my first appearance was at length announced 
and hastily at that, against the advice of Dugazon and 
in the face of the adverse opinion of Monvel and my in- 
structor in declamation. The egregious flatteries of my 
friends caused me to commit the added error of choosing 
the part of Dido, in which, they said, my physical quali- 
ties would show to great advantage, my lower limbs being 
especially praised as artistically perfect. My dress was de- 
signed by a person of great taste, and was made without 
regard to cost. I was in the seventh heaven of delight. 

The actors were extremely obliging and prophesied 
me success. Nevertheless, when the date of my first 
appearance on the stage had been actually and irrevoc- 
ably decreed by order of M. Chaptal, the minister of home 
affairs, I thought I observed a certain coolness and frigid 
civility towards me among my colleagues. I was ignor- 
ant of the usages of the Theatre-Frangais, and M. Mahe- 
rault, the commissary of the Republic, informed me that 
there were some formal calls to be absolved. I was ad- 
mitted only by Talma, Monvel, Dugazon, Dazincourt, 
Mole, Mile. Fleury and Mile. Mezeray. The iciness of 
the rehearsals had somewhat disenchanted me. 

The fatal hour drew near. The night before the per- 
formance I asked my friends not to come to see me until 
it should be over. But some of them disregarded my 
request, and lauded my costume; tunic, scarf, quiver, 
crown, and everything else they admired beyond measure. 
They were so insistent that when the signal of three 
knocks was given for the curtain to go up, I heard it with- 
out dismay, and walked fully at ease into the wings 
through two lines of inquisitive onlookers. But as soon 
as Lafont reached the lines preceding my entry, I began 
to feel the ground give way under me. 

I went on. A triple round of applause greeted me, 
and, far from encouraging me, put me completely out of 
countenance. It was all over ! 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 93 

I had, as the common saying goes, lost my head. 

I became aware of that very quickly. My reply to 
larbe was delivered in a dull, monotonous tone, which 
sounded all the worse by contrast to Lafont's sonorous 
speaking of the verses. The reader will perceive that I 
am judging myself without prejudice. The scene ap- 
peared to last through all eternity. Although ^neas is 
a poor part, Damas put so much feeling into it that he 
roused me to such a degree that in a dialogue with him I 
was three times unanimously applauded. One emotion 
succeeded another in my breast, and my heart beat to 
bursting. Then I realized how rash I had been to select 
such a part for a first appearance. This was made more 
cruelly plain to me by the hisses that came from the 
audience in the scene with my "companion." The con- 
summation of my agony was at hand. The public thought 
I died very well, as I fell into the arms of Elisa in a real 
faint. She, a much less robust individual than Dido, 
would have succumbed to my weight had not the curtain 
descended in time to save us both. I was carried to my 
room, and everyone crowded in to make solicitous en- 
quiries. 

" It is a conspiracy, " some of them said. 

" Perhaps it is," I replied, " but I certainly acted badly." 

Meanwhile the unhappy Dido was being undressed. 
As one by one my splendours were taken off me, I felt a 
succession of shocks to my pride, which was indeed suffer- 
ing terribly. 

At home some friends met me for supper. Among 
them were Regnault and a nephew of Admiral Gan- 
theaume. This young man was furious, and swore that 
I was the victim of an actors' cabal, which was true to 
some extent. But in spite of all the supper was very gay. 
My friends wanted me to continue the engagement by 
playing the parts of Semiramis and Hermione. They 
spared me neither compliments nor consolation, but the 



94 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

lesson had been so severe that for once I obeyed the voice 
of reason. Nothing could induce me to set foot on the 
boards of the Theatre-Frangais again. I saw M. Chaptal 
more than once after the fatal night, but there was no 
question between us of dramatic backslidings. I even 
begged all of the artists of the theatre with whom I was 
still on terms of acquaintance to consider me quite re- 
signed and comforted, and, above all, not to think I had 
the least desire to appeal from my first failure. Upon 
which they all became most amiable again, pouring pro- 
testations upon me of their sincere friendship and their 
.warm sympathy. 



CHAPTER VIII 

ney's private correspondence during the campaigns 

of 1800 moreau's dislike for ney further 

theatrical venture in the provinces — death of 
kleber — his caustic notes upon bonaparte — 

reminiscence of valmy — death of van m 

— a theatrical company in pawn — moreau 's hos- 
tility to the first consul bernadotte and the 

"butter-pot conspiracy" — FOUCHE PREVENTS A 
DUEL BETWEEN BONAPARTE AND MOREAU. 

By way of diversion from my sad adventure in the drama, 
I will mention the glad tidings that I now was receiving 
as to the army of the Rhine. The first consul had en- 
trusted Moreau with this important command. Under 
him were Generals Ney, Richepanse, Saint-Cyr. Lecourbe, 
Grouchy, Decaen — all soldiers of the highest merit and 
all of proved military efficiency. Moreau had an army 
of 80,000 splendid troops, who had full confidence in 
their leaders. They fought in the two glorious cam- 
paigns of the spring and winter of the year 1800, famous 
for the victories at Engen, Moeskirch, Biberach, for the 
taking of Philipsburg, Elm, and Ingolstadt, and for the 
final great victory at Hohenlinden. 

During these happenings, Michael Ney, who played a 
conspicuous part in them, wrote occasional letters to his 
relatives and friends which were shown to me at a later 
time. Apart from the interest that these letters add to 
the events they described, they bear the impress of the 

95 



96 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

writer's character. There is about them a glow and a 
dash and a patriotic ardour, there are forcible expres- 
sions and a picturesque familiarity, such as do not come 
from a literary artist but from a soldier writing hastily 
at a camp fire, in the rather diffusive style then univer- 
sally in vogue, but still without sacrifice of sound sense 
and reason. Here is what he writes from headquarters, 
near Augsburg, in a letter dated May 15, 1800: 

" I promised to give you some details about our mili- 
tary operations. But the quick marches and the con- 
tinual fighting since the fifth of this month have pre- 
vented me from keeping my promise. The enemy flies 
whenever we are near ; we have already taken more than 
20,000 prisoners. Widespread desertion makes the fear- 
ful plight of the Austrians still worse. They are now 
marching in full retreat upon the Lech. Ulm, which 
only has a weak garrison, will not be long in surrender- 
ing. In fact, our campaign is going off most successfully : 
soldiers, officers, all are fighting with unexampled tenac- 
ity. 'This is the campaign of peace, ' they say, 'let us get 
done with it' ! I hope that victory, which is with our 
arms everywhere, will soon end this horrible struggle 
and give us peace. I shall then hasten home to enjoy 
its blessings." 

A month later, and four days before the battle of 
Hochstadt, Ney wrote again from Weissenburg, and I 
give the following extract from his letter : 

" I have just been told by a man who has come to me 
from the enemy that there are two bridges over the 
Danube, newly put across it to the south of the abbey 
of Elchingen, and that a number of Austrian troops are 
encamped thereabouts. If these gentlemen pay me a 
visit, they will run upon the point of a sword !" 

Five years later the fortunes of war took Marshal Ney 
back to the same ground, when he won the glorious title 
of Duke d' Elchingen. 



MEMOIRS OP A CONTEMPORARY 97 

On the 12th of Messidor, of the year VIII. (July ist, 
1800), we find him excusing himself because of the brevity 
of his letters: 

"The neglectfulness I have shown in my correspon- 
dence, " he says, " is greatly due to our perpetual marches. 
General Kray's speedy retreat behind Ratisbon gave 
us a little time to breathe. Well, there it is, that fine 
army of 100,000 fighters, which was not only going to 
invade Alsace, Brabant, and so on, but was going to 
change our political status entirely. There is that army, 
I say, reduced to 40,000 runaways not daring to face the 
Republican phalanxes, which are in rags to be sure, but 
all full of courage and vigour. The Austrians have already 
proposed an armistice. Now that we are masters of the 
whole of Bavaria, we shall force the elector of that coun- 
try to agree to partial peace. We can then easily afford 
to accede to an entire suspension of hostilities, after 
having taken enough country to ensure the army good 
winter quarters and having got enough money out of it 
to pay the soldiers and provide them with new coats and 
breeches, &c. " 

In a letter written in August of the same year, from 
his headquarters at Neuburg, on the Danube, Ney gives 
an opinion on the negotiations in progress with Austria, 
and is very sceptical about them : 

" Everyone believes we are to have peace, but I do not. 
I am persuaded that England will attempt the impossi- 
ble to induce the Austrians to make another effort in 
this campaign. Their false pride is very likely to get 
the better of them and cause them to make that mistake. 
It seems difficult to convince these vain people that the 
Prench troops will continue to beat them whenever and 
wherever we attack them. I should recommend them 
to consider the thing carefully, to let us go back to the 
Rhine, and to sign a treaty of peace. Otherwise, we 
might easily, without much ado, go to Vienna. I would 



98 MF.MOIRS OF A CONTICMPORARV 

i;'l;i(lly v;i\o up [\\c ivsL o\' my life to lli^lil. llio oxooraMo 
lCni;lish, to CDinivl llu^sc ligiM's Nvhoni luiman iiaUiiv 
aMun\s to ackncnvKHli^o the i")in\vr o( Vvaucc, aiul to give 
lior hack what Ihoy ini|nulonlly slolo and tore away 
i'vou\ Iier ill violatiiMi o{ tho ndcs of war, For 1 ivincni- 
hor that those i;entieinefi are never as dan.c^ennis on the 
batllelieK' as when they are eni;ai;eil in polilieal strife 
or in eriminal attempts to overthrow aU soeial onku' — 
vso knii^ as it be to the i^reater j;K>ry of their own selves. 
W'ai'c^ Pitt! In a sht>rt time from now we sliaU know 
whether he intends to desist from his high-handed fashion 
in pohties. 1 nuist aiimit. neverthek^ss, that the man 
deserw^s admiration beeause o( his penetrating genius. 
Ihit that is nothing eomparetl to the evil whieh this 
monster has brought upon the w'hole universe. J^u'don 
my serawl. 1 am ill with rheumatie gout. You nuist 
see by my language tliat 1 am sulTering, sinee 1 am 
breathing only war and vengeanee in in\ler ti^ forget the 
state of my wretched, weak body, whieli is not wiirth 
four penee in quiet times." 

At long intervals I, too. reeei\\\l messages from Ney. 
The sight of his handwriting made my heart beat vio- 
lently. I w^as delighted at his answering me. TTis letters, 
I must a\-ow. were nun'e civil than they w^ere tender, but 
the>- exhaled a confidential spirit. In his last letter from 
the scene of action alluded to above, Ney made mention 
of an approaching visit to Paris. But the divinities of 
war ordained otherwise. 1 wrote to him in my turn, put- 
ting all my heart into the answer, wliieii, unlike a certain 
other letter, reached its inteiuk\i destination. The winter 
campaign opened, and Ney became a conspicuous (iguiv 
in the many battles whieli eulmiiiated in the splendid 
victory of llohenlindcn. 

Morcau, who had forgiven me, and ouglit to have ban- 
ished me from his memory, entertained an involuntary 
dislike for Ney, of my sentiments towards whom he was 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 



99 



fully aware. He flislike^l liirn too in spite of the faet 
that Ney's valuable military serviees under his com- 
mand enhanced his own reputation as a general. Ncy 
once told me how in a serious dispute Morcau had re- 
proached him with his attachment to Napoleon, to which 
Ney had replied: 

"I have always been ready to serve France, the coun- 
try I love so well. I served her unrler the Republic and 
under the Directory, I am serving her under you. 
General, and I shall serve her under Bonaparte. It is to 
my country that I am devoted, not to the man who Is 
chosen to govern her." 

Growing more and more reckless concerning Ney, I 
was on the point of turning all my possessions into cash, 
of taking to my men's clothes, and of rushing off to the 
army, l^ut gratitude stepjjcd in and interfered with 
love. 1'he remembrance of Moreau and of his kindness 
made me shrink from obliging him to witness the public 
rlisplay of a x^reference which would wound him so deeply. 
So I did not go, but 1 allowed my imagination to run 
riot in fancying the haj^piness that was to be as great as 
the delusion, but the short duration of which was to cost 
me a bitter expiation. 

My unfortunate dramatic essay at the Theatre-Fran- 
<^ais, barren as it had been, had nevertheless incited some 
provincial theatrical directors to make me offers. At 
first their propositions had a humiliating effect upon me. 
I saw that I had gone down in the scale. But upon 
further reflection I thought I had best leave Paris for a 
time with a view to having the Dido episode forgotten. 
Besides, I liked acting, and travel amused me. I there- 
fore decided to sign a contract with the manager of the 
largest theatre in Marseilles. Regnault, who at first had 
shown opposition to this plan, when he saw that my 
mind was made up gave me letters of introduction to M. 
de Permon, the commissary-general of police, and to 
M. Thibeaudeau, the prefect. 

L.cfC. 



loo MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

I cannot describe all the sorrowful thoughts, all the 
painful recollections, all the biting regrets I felt upon 
finding myself once more in Lyons, where, a few years 
before, I had lived in such happy and comfortable cir- 
cumstances under a respected name. 

Arrived at Marseilles, I at once settled down in the 
hotel I first came to. In a very short space of time I 
had chosen a fine apartment, had arranged for my meals, 
and had selected a maid. The landlady was most ac- 
commodating and almost disinterested — in spite of her 
calling. 

I went to see M. Permon, who greeted me in the most 
charming and gallant manner. Then the days were fixed 
upon which I was to appear. They were very convenient, 
thanks to the amiable counsels of the noted singer Rous- 
selois, a woman who had the right sense of the truly 
beautiful and of tragic dignity, and who proved her 
friendship towards me by trying to correct my vagaries. 
Her advice went a great deal further than theatrical 
matters. She would sometimes say to me : 

"In the freedom of our profession, which does not 
bring us wealth to shield ourselves behind, we must take 
some care of our reputation. " 

After which she would scold me for going about so 
much, for all my driving and walking out, for being seen 
so often in public places and in society. Each time 
that she talked to me I concurred with her view. Yet — 
how was I to resist all those invitations ? And, still more, 
how was I to resist my own character ? 

During my sojourn at Marseilles I underwent the sor- 
row of seeing the mortal remains of General Kleber 
arrive from Egypt in a lead coffin. He had been miu"- 
dered in Cairo by a Moslem fanatic. I had been well 
acquainted with the general before he went away to 
Egypt, when he was living with Moreau. Kleber was 
a brave and clever officer. But, like his friend Moreau, 




GENERAL KLEBER 

{From an Oil Portrait by Ansiaux) 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY ibi 

he had an uncertain character which assorted strangely 
with his commanding figure. By nature he was a 
thoroughgoing rebel, himself declaring that he hated 
discipline. His mind, though agreeably cultivated, 
was rather dull, and mediocre in capability. After the 
departure of Bonaparte from Egypt, Kleber's general- 
ship proved inferior to the army's expectations. In- 
stead of taking real action, he reviled Bonaparte. Dalas, 
Kleber's aide-de-camp, who brought back the general's 
body and his papers from Egypt, was a friend of mine. 
I had occasion to see him and talk with him at the hotel he 
stayed at, where I too was residing. He told me much in 
reference to Kleber, and communicated some items to me 
from the general's notebook, in which Napoleon was criti- 
cised with unsparing severity. Here are a few of these 
extracts which have hitherto never been published: 

" I am finishing the first book of my 'Memoirs Relating 
to the Vendee'. Bonaparte keeps me in idleness, I was 
to have been commander-in-chief of the Syrian expedi- 
tion. But Bonaparte, who never hands over anything 
to anyone unless circumstances forbid his doing it him- 
self, finally concluded to take command in person, falsely 
alleging that I was in an unfit state of health," 

"Bonaparte says: 'Clever people are not wanted in 
an army,' He ought to be quite as afraid of sensible 
people, " 

"Is Bonaparte liked? How could he be? He likes 
no one. But he fancies he can make up for it through 
the tools he creates by advances and gifts, " 

"Is he bad? No. But that is because vice comes 
from asininity. And he is not an ass." 



I02 MEMOIRS OP A CONTEMPORARY 

"Well — what then is his great quality? For, after all, 
he is an extraordinary man. It is to dare and then dare 
more. In this art he goes beyond temerity itself. " 

I shall say nothing of the performances at Marseilles 
excepting that they were successful. I acquitted myself 
admirably in several tragic roles, among them those of 
Semiramis and Helo'ise. I remained at Marseilles for 
several months, after which I went with my colleagues 
to act at Draguignan and Digne. 

While I was at Draguignan a little incident occurred 
upon which I took back with great pleasure. My man- 
ager, myself, and the rest of our company were all dining 
together at the inn where we had taken lodgings. The 
manager was in good humour. He had been an actor 
in one of the chief Parisian theatres, was still a hand- 
some man, and was fond of relating his experiences. 
That evening he was giving full vent to his passion for 
story-telling. But leaving the moral of his tale until 
the last, he said that all his adventures had ended in a 
happy marriage — just like the plays on the stage. We 
went into the next room to take coffee, and there I found 
myself the object of the attentions of an officer of con- 
stabulary, whose solicitude caused me more anxiety 
than pleasure. I was more dismayed than ever when 
this obtrusive individual came over to our table, and 
without ceremony took a seat there. The officer joined 
in our conversation, and soon began to talk of battles 
and campaigns. The name of Valmy escaped him. I 
started as if I had received an electric shock. 

"You were there, then?" I asked him. 

"Ten yards away from yourself, Madam, when the 
brave Drouot was being carried off the field. " 

Everyone exclaimed: 

" What, is it possible ! You ware there ! You were 
fighting?" 



MEMOIRS OP A CONTEMPORARY 103 

"I saw the lady," said Jarlot — which was the officer's 
name, — "giving a flask and a handkerchief to a wounded 
sub-lieutenant who had just been struck by a bullet, and 
she was not in the least afraid. Yes, Madam, I recog- 
nize you ! One forgets courage no less than one forgets 
beauty!" 

I answered that the reminiscences he brought up made 
me feel some pride, although I was not entitled to any 
praise. I also begged him to say nothing more about 
my past military career, which might do me no credit 
as an actress. The reward for his secrecy was to be my 
friendship. To this he delightedly agreed. But the 
story was out now, and to the end of the tour I was an 
Armida in the eyes of my colleagues. 

A letter from Amsterdam announced the news of my 
husband's death at Surinam, at the age of thirty-one. 
Such is the strange composition of the human heart that 
I was deeply and sincerely grieved, and shed many tears. 
I left Draguignan my soul full of sadness, resolving to 
return to Paris. 

By the time I had reached Aix I had already become 
more cheerful as the beneficent result of the journey, 
and a pleasant meeting furnished another timely dis- 
traction. At the hotel I stopped at in Aix I thought to 
recognize a charming young woman who had once been 
a bright ornament of the gatherings at General Moreau's 
and Saint -Jean-d'Angely's. She looked less happy, but 
not less affable. So I renewed the acquaintance without 
further ado. 

"What!" said I, "is it you, Felix? What are you 
doing here? Where are you going? Come with me, 
will you not, I am bound for Paris !" 

"Alas ! my dear friend — since you are kind enough to 
treat me as such — I must confess that we cannot stir 
from this place, and that for good reason. We are in 
pawn, my company and I, — for I am an actress, — and 



I04 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

must remain so until the money arrives which the mana- 
ger of the theatre at Digne is to send us. " 

"Well, how large a simi would it take to release such 
a valuable pledge ? " 

"Oh, here comes our manager, who will tell you ex- 
actly how our finances stand." 

M. Moiret, a very well-mannered young man, ex- 
plained with philosophic candour what the present needs 
and the future hopes of the company were. The ap- 
palling deficit amounted to 700 francs ! I lent the 
amount to him at once with so much readiness that he 
felt emboldened to make a yet more daring proposal : 

"Join our company without an engagement! We 
will give tragedies, comedies, melodramas, farces, operas, 
and even pantomimes with sham fights ! " 

"I am with you!" 

Felix hugged me on the spot. Moiret indulged in all 
sorts of extravagant talk. The leading man rubbed his 
hands at the idea of playing great parts. His wife, who 
also played large parts, and who was a lanky, forbidding 
person of thirty, also became quite excited. I invited 
them all to dinner to begin with. Moiret volunteered 
to take charge of my luggage, which, he gaily declared, 
was worth more than the movables of the whole troupe. 

When the laughter and the merriment had subsided, 
I thought to remark a certain air of diffidence about the 
company, and some mutterings and whisperings. I 
asked what the meaning was of this. Moiret, assuming 
a serio-comic tone, acted as spokesman. 

"Madam," he said, "you may no doubt be aware that 
the ancients employed chariots to travel in. " 

"Well?" 

"Well, we should very much like to follow their ex- 
ample in a country that is so full of their relics. " 

"By which you mean that you want to drive to Digne. " 

"Ah, how quickly you guess " 



MEMOIRS OP A CONTEMPORARY 105 

''And is that all you had to confess? Why, this com- 
pletes our 'Comical Romance' !" 

Through all the ups and downs of life I have always 
been able to take what came to me with good grace, and 
to adapt myself to cirucmstances. Thus I manifested 
no surprise at the appearance of our four-wheeled phaeton. 
It was a large cart with a few upright wooden hoops 
stretched over with linen — or nearly so. Eleven people 
crowded into it, for I am not counting the soubrette's 
parrot, the ing6nue's angora cat, and the leading man's 
pug-dog. It was really a most absurd caravan, and the 
journey would have seemed highly amusing to any one 
not inclined to take life so seriously. Between a tirade 
from "Semiramis" and a grand aria from "Blue Beard" 
we steered safely into port. Mile. Pelix, M. Moiret, and 
myself were however loth to make our entrance into 
Digne in this fashion, and we therefore walked into the 
town on our feet. 

I spent three months at Digne. It may easily be im- 
agined that it had not needed all this time to free me 
from the last longings to continue my dramatic escapades. 
But while at Digne I was privileged to meet M. de Lameth, 
the prefect. It would have been difficult again to find 
combined such a distinguished mien, such a genial man- 
ner, and such refined politeness. M. de Lameth was 
universally liked. Although he was no longer young, the 
women still called him "the handsome prefect." 

The poor troupe from the Alpine capital did not make 
a fortune in Digne. It only contrived to subsist through 
the aid of municipal liberality and the prefect's generos- 
ity. As for me, I had declined to accept a salary ! All 
I had stipulated for was a single benefit performance. 
The day before it was to take place I received another 
letter from Amsterdam, requesting my presence there. 
At the same time a letter came from Ney, apprising me 
of the fact that he was leaving for Paris, where he in- 



io6 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

tended to make a prolonged stay, and stating that he 
would be glad to see me. A truce to tears, said I to 
myself, and made up my mind to go back to the metro- 
polis. 

Since my departure Moreau had married Mme. Collot, 
and had bought from B arras, who had disappeared from 
the political arena after the i8th of Brumaire, the mag- 
nificent estate and mansion of Gros Bois, near Paris. 
Having returned to the capital after the peace of Amiens 
was declared, he passed his time partly as a country 
gentleman, and partly as a townsman at a house in the 
Rue d'Anjou-Saint-Honore, which he had likewise pur- 
chased. 

Citizen Talleyrand had by a brief from the Pope been 
released from the sentence of major excommunication, 
which had been pronounced upon him some time before. 
He was coincidently released from his religious vows. 
The ex-Bishop of Autun was restored to lay life, and was 
allowed to marry without exposure to the thunderbolts 
of the Church. 

Moreau, in the meantime, had openly exhibited his 
hostility to the government. One day, after a grand 
dinner which he gave to a number of his friends at Gros 
Bois, he conferred a kettle of honour upon his cook and 
a collar of honour upon his dog, in derision of Napoleon's 
custom of bestowing swords of honour upon his officers 
as a reward for eminent service. The English newspapers 
blew the bellows of dissension between Moreau and 
Napoleon, praising the general's fine qualities as against 
the "tortuous ways" of the first consul. The Invisible, 
a clandestine royalist paper which circulated in the 
houses of the Faubourg Saint-Germain, seconded this 
movement. At the Tuileries Moreau was spoken of as 
"General Retreat, " because of his retreat from the Black 
Forest, or as the "cloth merchant," because he affected 
dressing in plain clothes of brown cloth. But it was the 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 107 

Concordat which give rise to the final rupture betweet 
Moreau and Bonaparte, and the immediate cause of it 
was Bemadotte. 

Bernadotte was one of the fiercest opponents to re- 
conciliation between France and Rome. The future 
King of Sweden was in command of the army of the 
West, whose headquarters were at Rennes. He showed 
pronounced Republican tendencies, which were shared 
by the troops under him. This was seen plainly enough 
when the question came up of voting Bonaparte consul 
for life. Nearly an entire half-brigade — officers and 
soldiers — of the army of the West voted "No." A 
pamphlet printed at Rennes, of a very violent character, 
and said to have been inspired by Bemadotte, was sent 
from Rennes, his headquarters, to one of Moreau's aides- 
de-camp at Paris in a basket of Brittany butter. The 
pamphlet was scarcely less than mutinous. In it Bona- 
parte was mentioned as a "skull-capped Corsican" and 
a "Capuchin monk" (in reference to his pact with the 
Papal See re-establishing public worship), and as "the 
murderer of Kleber. " Several such pamphlets — all 
marked "To be posted at different post-offices. Private 
and confidential" — were seized at Dinan, Vannes, and 
Saint Malo, the police immediately being put upon the 
trail of the offenders and soon unearthing the real cul- 
prits. 

Moreau received the pamphlet, read it, and passed it 
on to his friends. 

The first consul then requested Fouche to demand a 
full explanation from Moreau as to his attitude. 

Moreau accorded Bonaparte's emissary an unpleasant 
reception, refused to give him the least satisfaction, and 
dismissed him with a joke about "a butter-pot conspi- 
racy." 

These details were afterwards made known to me by 
Regnault de Saint- Jean-d'Angely, who added that when 



io8 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

Bonaparte heard of Moreau's language he went into a 
violent rage. 

"This dispute must cease!" he shouted at Fouche. 
" France is getting the worst of this — being dragged about 
between two people ! What with him in his position 
and me in mine, it looks as if I were his chief aide-de-camp ! 
He thinks he can govern the country ! We'll see about 
that!" 

Bonaparte then wanted to fight a duel with General 
Moreau, and Fouche was put up to quiet him and dis- 
suade him from the idea. 

All this, besides other things, led up to Bonaparte's 
election to the life consulship, and two years later, as a 
sequel to the Cadoudal plot, he became emperor. 



CHAPTER IX 

LAST MEETING WITH MOREAU — HE GOES TO AMERICA 
AFTER THE CADOUDAL PLOT — BEGINNING OF INTIMATE 
RELATIONS WITH NEY — CHARACTERISTICS OF TALLEY- 
RAND — THOUSAND FRANC BANK-NOTES AS CURL- 
PAPERS — Talleyrand's stupid wife — napoleon 

CROWNED king OF ITALY — THE "CONTEMPORARY" AT 
MILAN — " FAMA VOLAT" — AMOROUS EPISODE WITH 
NAPOLEON HIS WAY WITH WOMEN. 

These were some of the events which had happened 
during my absence from Paris, whither I returned from 
the South about the end of 1803. Before going to Hol- 
land, I wanted to obtain from Moreau some family papers 
I left behind in a drawer at Chaillot. In the early part of 
February I wrote a line to the general, of whose recent 
return I had heard. My messages had remained un- 
answered. As our intimacy had completely ceased long 
before his marriage, and as the documents in question 
were indispensable to me, I was angered by this dis- 
obliging silence. I took a carriage, and drove to Gros 
Bois, where Moreau was then living with his wife, in- 
tending to present myself before him. But my sense of 
propriety came to the rescue, and I turned back, con- 
tenting myself with writing another note. To this I 
received a speedy reply. Moreau asked me to meet him 
in the Boulevard Madeleine. I went. He did not come 
until I had been waiting half an hour. I found him con- 

109 



no MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

siderably aged and much changed. He handed me my 
papers, and then we walked for a long time in spite of 
the cold. He could talk of nothing but a multitude of 
mishaps and annoyances. I was deeply affected by 
his melancholy and his state of hopelessness. During 
the interview he compelled me to accept a small pocket- 
book. I wanted to open it, but he would not allow me 
to. He told me I must keep it, adding that I might give 
it back at some future time. He gave me the best of 
advice, urging me to become reconciled with my family, 
and so on. I did not see Moreau again. 

Knowing that Ney was not yet in Paris, I left the next 
day for Holland. I arrived safely at Delft, where I had 
some matters to settle, and where I therefore stayed a 
few days before proceeding to Amsterdam. I arranged 
my personal affairs with the greatest expedition possible. 
My family would only consent to see me on certain con- 
ditions, to which I was however unwilling to subscribe. 
I signed everything that was put before me. I was 
given twelve thousand florins, a set of ruby ornaments 
and a casket containing four thousand louis in exchange 
for surrendering my pretensions to all future inheritances. 
My relatives repudiated me formally. May the re- 
sponsibility of it fall on them ! 

It was on the return journey from Holland, at Ant- 
werp, that the news came to my ears of the conspiracy 
to reinstate the Bourbon dynasty, and of Moreau's 
arrest. A statement from the Minister of Justice in 
the Moniteur newspaper revealed to France that English 
spies had surreptitiously landed in the country. At 
Paris they were busy concocting schemes against the 
government and the first magistrate. Pichegru and 
Cadoudal were apprehended on the 7 th of February and 
the 9th of March respectively, Moreau having been im- 
prisoned on the 25th of January, 1804. 

I was deeply shocked, and during Moreau's trial wrote 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 



III 



twice for particulars to Regnault de Saint- Jean-d'Angely, 
whom the first consul had commissioned, with Miot, to 
examine Moreau's notebooks. Regnault would not see 
me, and sent word to say that the best counsel he could 
give me was that I should leave Paris. I saw none of 
the general's friends, and all I learnt of the unfortunate 
trial was from the newspapers. In them I read of Piche- 
gru's suicide in prison. But I felt reassured when I 
found out that the general's life was safe, and hoped he 
would be as happy as one can be in exile. Moreau asked 
to be allowed to go to America. The first consul imme- 
diately granted the request. 

Moreau owned real estate in France difficult to dispose 
of. The first consul bought his land at Gros Bois from 
him, and sold it to General Berthier, Moreau asking the 
same price for it which he had originally paid Barras. 
The first consul also purchased the house in the Rue 
d'Anjou, which he gave to Bernadotte. Moreau left 
prison after bidding his family farewell, was taken to 
Barcelona, and there embarked for the United States. 

The result of Cadoudal's conspiracy was clearly stated 
in his own words at the conclusion of his trial, when he 
said: 

" We have done more than we tried to do. We wanted 
to give France a king, we are giving her an emperor. " 

Having a great deal of money at my command, and 
feeling depressed in consequence of the isolated life I had 
of late been leading, I began travelling again, stopping 
at such towns as Nantes, Bordeaux, and Tours. These 
journeyings were not for pleasure, and not for any object 
but that of seeing the country. I spent my money 
without keeping count. Never having had to deny 
myself anything, what did I know of thrift or economy ? 

Not long after my return to Paris, a letter came from 
Ney, telling me he would soon arrive, and would then 
come to see me. 



112 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

I profited by the time still, before me to make ready a 
place worthy of my hero. In three days I was estab- 
lished in the Rue de Babylone, in a charming little re- 
treat, very comfortable, its small size notwithstanding, 
A shady garden was attached to it. Nevertheless I had 
qualms of anxiety. What if my conquering hero should 
not like me ? 

I had only had a few letters from Ney. They had all 
been quite short, but I read and re-read them. The 
language was not impassioned, yet was soft enough and 
amiable enough in places to make me feel encouraged. 
Gallantry so often has a perilous resemblance to love ! 
To his last note I replied with one that surely was the 
clumsiest and stupidest I ever penned in my life. When 
one is really in love, one is not at all clever. 

The day on which I expected his visit seemed endless. 
All the morning I walked about the house, looked out of 
the windows, posed before the mirrors. At last I thought I 
heard a carriage. A cabriolet rolls noisily up to the 
door, stops, and a minute later the door opens. 

My hero stands before me. 

Had Ney been an ordinary man, he might almost have 
been thought ugly. Yet what with his noble stature, 
his demeanour, his virile gaze, and his fame — he seemed 
handsome. But a few words had passed between us 
and embarrassment had already quitted us both. We 
were as much at ease as if we had known one another for 
twenty years. 

Too honest and open to shrink from a duty or the 
obligation of an avowal, Ney did not hide from me 
Napoleon's project of his union with a beautiful young 
woman who was a friend of Hortense. Since it denoted 
such high integrity, I was glad to hear the idol of my 
heart speak of his marriage, although it would separate 
me from him. After his frank confession, I feared I 
should give Ney an unfavourable impression of my 




MARSHAL NEY 

{From the Faulting by Langlois) 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 113 

character by asking him to come again. But he made 
me very happy by pointing out to me that as yet he was 
free. 

He came again the next day, and on that occasion 
told me much about his military career. We drifted 
into relations warmer than those usually called fraternal. 
He asked me a thousand questions about my past life, 
about my present existence, about my views of the stage. 
He listened attentively to all my replies. Suddenly he 
exclaimed. 

" What a pity that you are an actress ! I would rather 
see you a canteen-woman !" 

"A canteen-woman! Why, that would suit me ex- 
cellently, for it would enable me to see you constantly. " 

He burst out laughing at this pleasant suggestion. 

"No," said he, "neither would that life be suitable to 
you." 

He then explained to me that canteen-women must be 
ill-favoured, which was not the case with me, adding that 
in the army not even ugliness was a preservative of virtue. 
On this subject he told me some amusing anecdotes, 
which, to bear repetition, would require his jovial mili- 
tary style. 

The hour of separation came all too soon. 

"Goodbye, dear one whom I have met too late!" he 
said. " My sincere friendship is yours. We may never 
see each other again. But you shall hear from me. " 

He took from his breast a watch and the chain be- 
longing to it, and gave them to me. I said to him : 

"You have worn it, and your name is engraved upon 
it, and therefore I take it. Oh ! that it was not pointing 
to the hour of a perhaps eternal farewell. " 

But that farewell, which honour decreed, proved not to 
be, after all, a farewell for ever, though it was earnestly 
believed to be so. 

Before taking, so to speak, to my military wings, and 



114 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

pursuing the account of my wandering life, I must dwell 
on a few reminiscences which, did I not record them now, 
would be swept away in the tide of time and my mis- 
fortunes, not thereafter to be remembered. 

I have previously spoken of M. de Talleyrand. He 
was one of the men who left the most lasting traces upon 
my volatile mind. At the time to which I am now re- 
ferring there was not a vestige in M. de Talleyrand of 
his former episcopal station but his manner of wearing 
his hair. As Gaudin, asterwards the Duke de Gaeta, 
once remarked, " I went through the Revolution with my 
wig on," so it might be said that the Bishop of Autun 
had nothing left of the Church and the Ancient System 
but his powder and his good manners. The veiled look 
of his eyes, which were nevertheless most penetrating, 
gave him a singular expression. One of the principal 
charms of M. de Talleyrand with those who were privi- 
leged to know him was, on the one side, the apparent 
lightness, the careless indifference he showed in im- 
portant matters, and, on the other side, his wrapt at- 
tention in listening to the most trivial conversation. 
His cleverness in speech might have been exceeded, but 
not that of his reticences. Talleyrand, who talked little 
and with an indolent air, never lost his individuality in 
conversation, though he kept it in check with consum- 
mate politeness. 

I rarely went to the ministerial office of foreign affairs 
without spending two or more hours there. My hair 
especially attracted the gracious admiration of M. de 
Talleyrand. One day it was the subject of a novel kind 
of activity on his part, when, after toying with my 
blonde locks, he had reduced them to a state of extreme 
untidiness. The hand that was wont to sign treaties 
for France at last vouchsafed to still the rebellious in- 
dignation which my disordered toilet had summoned 
up by treating myself as a power whose friendship had 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 115 

to be bought back. Here, then, was the French minis- 
ter of foreign affairs, seizing my tresses one by one, and- 
rolHng them up in thin pieces of paper which he took out 
of a drawer. He arranged my hair under my hat, beg- 
ging me to leave it as it was until I reached home, where 
I should arrive, he said, with it looking less beautiful 
than before he had tumbled it. I pushed my patience as 
far as he had his gallantry, when perceiving that he had 
been using thousand-franc bank notes as curl-papers, I 
held out to him one tuft of my hair after another, exclaim- 
ing each time: 

"Here is one more, your Excellency !" 

My candour towards my readers entitles me to their 
credence. They may believe me when I say that in this 
instance no interested motives may be imputed to me. 
It was too late to resent the stratagem employed by M. 
de Talleyrand; refusal would have been tantamount to 
ingratitude ; it would also have been an exhibition of ill- 
humour unfelt by my flattered vanity. And since the 
minister's present was not the reward for any weakness 
of mine, I thought in fact that it was to my credit to keep 
something that I had not been put to the shame of 
earning. 

M. de Talleyrand was at this time paying steady court 
to Mme. Grand, a handsome East Indian Creole, the 
daughter of a Pondicherry ship's captain, whose acquaint- 
ance he had made after his release from exile, and whom 
he had then married. She was as much renowned for 
her silly simplicity as for her beauty. The ridiculous 
things she said would fill a book. I saw Mme. Grand 
often. She had lovely fair hair, lovely blue eyes, and all 
the lovely qualities desirable to anyone favouring mental 
vacuity. 

I have reason to doubt that Talleyrand ever took a 
mistress or his wife into his confidence, or that he ever 
divided political secrets with anybody whomsoever. Re- 



ii6 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

garding his attitude to my sex, I have always thought 
him to resemble Bonaparte somewhat. Women might 
give him pleasure without occupying his mind, and he 
was able to get everything from them he wanted without 
further trouble than a moment's love-making. 

Bonaparte, first consul, nominated hereditary emperor 
of the French, with the title of Napoleon I. in the month 
of May, 1804, by the votes of the Tribunate and the Sen- 
ate, ratified by three and a half millions of electors, the 
following year witnessed the arrival, in Paris, of the dele- 
gates from the electoral colleges and constituent bodies 
of the Italian Republic, who came to lay the allegiance of 
their nation at the emperor's feet, and to proclaim Napo- 
leon King of Italy. 

The emperor left Paris on the first of April with the 
empress, to go to Milan to be crowned. The festivities 
promised to be very brilliant. I quickly made up my 
mind to attend them. I was on excellent terms with 
Count Philip Strozzi, had never relinquished my corre- 
spondence with him. I informed him of my wish to be 
present at the coronation. He answered that I might 
count upon a pleasant stay in Milan. 

Before departing to the French capital, I repaired to 
the Tuileries to see the grand marshal of the palace, Duroc, 
whom I knew, and to ask him for a letter of introduction. 
He received me with great affability, — which was not his 
strongest quality, — indulged in a few pleasantries about 
my admiration for heroes, and inquired about Ney. He 
gave me the letter I had come for, and then asked me if I 
knew man}'- people in Milan. , 

" When I was there with General Moreau, as his wife, " 
I replied, "all the grandees of the place were proud of 
being counted among my friends. Now I shall go alone, 
depending on my own merits — ^which then were said to 
be beyond compare. I cannot say yet whether I have 
many friends left in Milan. To tell the truth I expect the 
worst." 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 117 

I had not been mistaken as to the reception I had an- 
ticipated at Milan. Most of the people had forgotten me. 
But this troubled me very little ; I still found a few friends. 
I took a large apartment. In the same house a noted 
tragic actress of extraordinary ability was living, Mme. 
Pelandi. Thus I came to know the theatrical world of 
Milan, and was invited to all their entertainments. They 
persuaded me to take a part in the prologue of a festival 
play entitled "Fame Flies." It began with the words 
Fama volat, and consisted of fifty lines of bad Italian 
verse eulogizing the emperor, which I recited, imperson- 
ating the goddess of Fame and crowning a bust of Napo- 
leon with a laurel wreath. I showed to good advantage 
in my classical costume, to which no doubt my success in 
this role may be ascribed. I was vehemently applauded. 

After the performance I was to take part in a grand 
supper. About to change my dress, I was surprised at 
receiving a note from Duroc asking me to go to the royal 
palace with some one who would come for me. Although 
having no ambitious plans to further, I will allow that I 
bestowed especial care upon my personal appearance. 
Arrived at the palace, the grand marshal congratulated 
me, and assured me that the master of the house was well 
disposed tov/ard me. 

"I need not tell you," he said, "how to address the 
emperor. But let me give you a piece of serious advice, 
which is not to be frightened if he mentions Moreau. " 

"Frightened!" I exclaimed, "never fear! But if he 
says an3^hing about Moreau or Ney, goodbye to His 
Majesty." 

"Don't be rebellious. Simply be agreeable — which 
will be very easy to you. You will thank me for my 
advice." 

A door I had not noticed was just then thrown open, 
and I found myself in a study twenty feet square with the 
Emperor Napoleon, the monarch for whom the world 



ii8 MEMOIRS OF x\ CONTEMPORARY 

was too small. At first he neither bowed nor acknowl- 
edged my presence. Then, stepping up toward me, he 
observed : 

"Do you know that you look several years younger 
here than on the stage ?" 

" I am happy to hear it, " 

" You used to be very intimate with Moreau ?" 

"Very intimate," 

" He did some foolish things for your sake !" 

To this I made no answer. The emperor then came 
close to me, and we talked more freely still. He was very 
engaging, sufficiently so, at least, to make me forget 
Moreau for the emperor-king ; his compliments were blunt 
rather than sentimental. It was easy to see that women 
could exercise little power over Napoleon. 

He seemed to know some details of my strange career, 
and asked me if I belonged to the Milanese theatre and if 
I intended to stay there. I replied that after the cere- 
monies were over I proposed to travel in the Tyrol. He 
looked at me with eyes so piercing that one might have 
thought that he saw through and through me, at the same 
time asking the question : 

"Are you German, then?" 

" No, Your Majesty. I was bom in Italy, and I have a 
French heart." 

He gave me another glance, seemed to hesitate for a 
minute or two, and then remarked with royal condescen- 
sion: 

" I may do something for you. " 

After dispensing this veritable petitioner's sop he van- 
ished. I was escorted home by the officer who brought 
me, and who plied me with questions as to the interview. 

Once more alone, I underwent a double sensation of 
pride and humiliation. I was proud at having attracted 
Napoleon's attention, and felt humiliated because I had 
not been able to resist the fascination of Moreau's enemy, 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 119 

who inhabited the same house that nine years before I 
had Hved in with the general, enjoying the universal re- 
spect due to a legitimate spouse. 

The next day the grand marshal called upon me. He 
surprised me less by the magnificent gift he brought me 
on the emperor's behalf than by a second invitation to 
the palace, I wanted to refuse the gift, to which I did 
not believe myself entitled. But Duroc gave me such 
cogent reasons for accepting it that I at length complied, 
enquiring from him whether I ought to thank the em- 
peror. 

So I went to the palace again that evening, as I had 
been commanded. Only on this occasion I had much 
longer to wait. The grand marshal escorted me into a 
very spacious room, which bore more resemblance to a 
minister's office than to a royal study. The emperor was 
seated at a desk, signing an enormous bundle of despatches. 
He looked up for a moment merely, as we came in, im- 
mediately resuming his work. The grand marshal 
signed to me to sit down, and himself withdrew. More 
than a qiiarter of an hour elapsed before the emperor 
seemed to remember my presence. Suddenly, turning 
about without dropping his pen, he remarked : 

"Are you tired of waiting?" 

" That would be impossible, Your Majesty. " 

"How impossible?" 

"Am I not witnessing the labours of a great man? Is 
that not the most interesting sight imaginable ? ' ' 

Hereupon I rose. He did likewise, and came over to 
me in a much friendlier manner than the day before. Of 
a sudden he cast his eye down upon a corner of his desk, 
crossed the room, and pulled the bell-rope. A Mameluke 
at once appeared in the door opposite that by which I 
had entered. I was so startled at his appearance that I 
fell back into my chair. He fastened his eyes upon me 
in a terrifying manner. He handed a parcel of letters 



I20 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORi\RY 

to his master, who took them from him in silence, and 
laid them on his desk. The Mameluke left the room. 

The emperor then came towards me once more. His 
eyes expressed far more of Italian ardour than imperial 
dignity. I gave not a thought to etiquette, and he was 
affability itself. Our friendly interview spun itself out — 
both of us unwitting — until two o'clock in the morn- 
ing. 

" Do you never sleep ?" I asked him. 

"As little as possible. Whatever is taken from sleep 
is added to real life. " 

In speaking of such a remarkable man, the slightest 
reminiscences seem important. I may therefore be par- 
doned for giving a few more details. 

Napoleon's roughness has been much declaimed against, 
it being alleged to have been almost savage. This is sheer 
calumny. Certainly he was no foppish ladies' man. 
But his gallantry, for the very reason that it was not com- 
monplace, was all the more acceptable. He pleased you 
because he was sincere. He would not tell a woman out- 
right that she was beautiful, but would describe her with 
the touch of an artist. 

"Would you believe it," he acknowledged smilingly, 
" that when I saw you on the stage I suspected your good 
looks might be partly contraband?" 

It has also been stated that his skin had the hue and 
other unpleasant peculiarities of that of coloured people. 
Those who have seen him from close proximity will join 
with me in denying this report. Nor did the emperor at 
all resemble the slim, frail-looking General Bonaparte. 
His face had gained in nobility of expression, which was, 
however, as simple as ever. His eye was incredibly sharp 
and piercing, and the fine lines of his profile recalled the 
Cassarean model. His hands, which have been much 
praised, justly merited their reputation. I commented 
upon their whiteness, and he thanked me with a smile 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 121 

almost like a pretty woman's — such is the childish vanity 
of even the greatest characters on some personal matter. 
I may here confess to a change of opinion, experienced 
by many others at that time. Dating from my inter- 
views with Napoleon, I never thought of him excepting 
as the greatest man of his age. My enthusiasm for him 
was thenceforth unbounded. 

I have omitted to say that when I thanked the em- 
peror for the magnificent present he had sent me, he 
answered : 

"I will remember you. We will do more!" 
He kept his word. Three years later, Regnault de 
Saint-d'Angely submitted to him for signature my ap- 
pointment at the court of Tuscany with Princess Elisa 
Bacciochi. The emperor said: "Why, this is our 'Fama 
volat' ! Of course I authorize it!" And this consent 
gained me the approval and kindness of Napoleon's 
sister. 



CHAPTER X 

JOURNEY TO INNSBRUCK — MEETING THERE WITH NEY — 
GARDANE, GOVERNOR OP THE PAGES — DERY, A CHIVAL- 
ROUS ESCORT — THE CAMPAIGN OF 1806 — THE BATTLE 
OF EYLAU — IN WHICH THE "CONTEMPORARY" RIDES 
IN A CAVALRY CHARGE — AND IS WOUNDED — INTER- 
VIEW WITH NEY AFTER THE BATTLE — ITS COST TO 
FRANCE — THE " RED LION " — RETURN TO PARIS. 

I LEFT Milan towards the close of the year 1805. I stayed 
a few days in Verona on my way to the Tyrol. At Verona 
I engaged an Italian servant, a sort of courier and steward 
in one, and I also bought two fine horses. Dressed up 
as a man, with my luggage reduced to a single portman- 
teau, I thus set out upon the journey to the Tyrol as though 
I were making an excursion to Vincennes. My desire to 
see Ney again was not unmingled with regrets, which were 
not unconnected with the memory of the emperor. It 
was all very well to tell myself that, being tied to Ney 
by no other bond but that of frienddship, I had been 
guilty of no transgression, and therefore need not re- 
proach myself; my conscience troubled me nevertheless. 
So I went after Ney like a schoolboy, without his expect- 
ing me. I visited the whole of the Tyrol in this manner, 
gradually drawing nearer and nearer to the headquarters 
of the army commanded by him who, in spite of his mar- 
shal's staff and his duke's title, was always Michael Ney 
to me. My journey ended at Innsbruck, which I reached 
by way of Botzen. When I arrived at the capital of the 

123 



124 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

Tyrol it was resounding with the shouts of victory of the 
brave Frenchmen. Innsbruck was almost like a French 
town where recruits were being gathered. By dint of a few 
German phrases I managed to secure very agreeable lodg- 
ings next door to the celebrated mineralogist Schlasser, 
whose study I visited equipped with a little second-hand 
learning, which however stood me in good stead. I 
found Ney in the midst of a resplendent staff. He had 
discovered in the arsenal at Innsbruck the standards of 
the Seventy-sixth Regiment, lost in the Grisons cam- 
paign; at this the regiment was overjoyed. His im- 
mediate smile showed me that he had recognized me, and 
that he was not annoyed by my presence. 

In the evening he came to see me. My hair was cut 
short, and the sun had browned my skin. In fact I had 
such a masculine air that Ney said to me : 

"If you did not speak I would defy anyone to guess 
you were a woman, especially if you were on horseback." 

I had an actual experience of the kind at the defence of 
Cattaro, where General Dezons was in command. Seeing 
me treating a number of soldiers to brandy who were col- 
lected about the canteen- woman — an approved copy of 
the heroine sung by our Beranger — the general made the 
enquiry : 

** Who is that young man, that little man over there ? " 

" General," replied the military Hebe, " he is a Parisian 
who wants to be a soldier-apprentice. He is paying 
liberally for his initiation, but he does not drink himself." 

Ney asked me if I was not tired of my wandering life. 
A woman, he said, must be of iron to prefer such exertion 
and fatigues to rest. He went on to remark that, his 
wish to have me near him notwithstanding, I had best leave 
the army as soon as possible. I remained at Innsbruck 
a few days only, Ney promising to come and see me in 
Paris after the war. 

There, accordingly, I received visits from him after the 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 125 

Peace of Pressburg, with which his activity in the field was 
suspended for the time being. I occupied a small apart- 
ment in the Faubourg Saint-Germain, never going to the 
theatre or inviting friends, and leading an altogether 
quiet but happy existence, Ney's idea was that I should 
take a place as teacher of languages in one of our great 
educational institutions founded by Napoleon. In vain I 
pointed out that my war records would be of little use as 
academical testimonials. He persisted, while I enter- 
tained small hopes of obtaining such a situation, and 
therefore did not continue to argue. 

For the vanquished the treaty of peace signed at Press- 
burg proved to be no more than an armistice, A fresh 
coalition wa*s soon in arms against France, consisting of 
Prussia, Russia, Sweden, and England. In the autumn 
of 1806 began the campaign against Prussia, 

Ney informed me one day that he had been entrusted 
with the sixth corps of the army which was to fight in Ger- 
many. The campaign, he predicted, would be long and 
severe. In case I wanted to follow him he had commended 
me to the care of General Gardane, the governor of the 
pages, who was soon to leave for the front, I had made 
his acquaintance in Italy, Moreau thought highly of his 
valour. But his more than blunt manner always repelled 
me. He was agreeable if he wanted to please you, rough if 
you did not please him, I did not conceal from Ney that I 
thought Gardane must be a strange governor for the pages. 
He answered that Napoleon did not wish to make fops of 
these young men, but good substantial soldiers, 

" Besides," he added, "you are speaking of Gardane the 
Republican general, and I of Gardane of the court. You 
will yourself see the difference. We have all changed a 
little Do you not think I am less harsh ? We are all 
more or less disguised as courtiers. A curious transfor- 
mation, is it not?" 

Ney set forth and I wrote to General Gardane. He 



126 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

replied, asking me to present myself at the Tuileries the 
next day. I found him changed indeed. He had be- 
come a marvel of politeness — the last "red-heel" of the 
Bull's Eye chamber, Apparently he saw no such change 
in me, for he indulged in gallant speeches of a nature to 
make me apprehensive of being under his protection dur- 
ing the journey. I hence declined his assistance with all 
the conventional formality in vogue. One of my friends 
mentioned another officer to me. His name was Dery, 
he belonged to a hussar regiment, and was a staid, reliable 
man. He called upon me, and warned me that after cross- 
ing the frontier we could not travel together, since women 
were not allowed to accompany the troops. But as far as 
the frontier I might dispose of his services. 

I was glad to accept Dery as a travelling companion. 
During the whole of the journey he behaved with the ut- 
most propriety. Exhibiting none of the ordinary gal- 
lantry whose mission it seems to be to make love to every 
woman, he was satisfied to be merely cordial and friendly. 
Nothing could have given me greater pleasure. Whenever 
we would get out of our carriage he would let me jump to 
the ground alone, as if I had been an aide-de-camp. 

"I may appear somewhat unceremonious," he said, 
"but my devotion to your sex prevents me from attentions 
to trousers, from languishing after a necktie, or from 
raving over a cap." 

Dery had guessed the name that filled my heart. He 
had the tact to pretend ignorance, but took pleasure in 
telling me of Ney's exploits, for which his reputation was 
great even among a host of heroes. Dery adroitly sug- 
gested a sure way of letting the object of my affections 
know of my whereabouts. But I did not wish to adopt 
this means. I had promised secrecy, and I intended to 
preserve it at the risk of all dangers or hardships, even at 
the risk of being misjiidged and compromised. Saddened 
by the early signs of winter on the road, I merely said 







THE "COXTEMPORARY" DURING THE CAMPAIGN 01 

iSo6. 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 127 

to my escort that I was afraid of the season on ac- 
count of the poor soldiers, since the cold would be ex- 
cessive. 

"No !" he said, "they will have no time to feel cold !" 

It was proved, alas, that winter was an enemy, the only 
enemy our armies co^ld not conquer It needed the con- 
spiracy of all the elements to vanquish our dear France, 
and in this great disaster how many cherished names 
passed into history ! The brave Dery, too, was cut down 
in the flower of his life, at the battle of the Moskwa, in the 
fatal Russian expedition, that terrible retaliation for our 
triumphs. 

From the very beginning of the campaign of 1806, Ney 
played a prominent part in the field. At Jena, coming 
up at the end of the battle with his cavalry, he compassed 
the final rout of the Prussian army. He then pursued 
the enemy, bombarded Magdeburg, and made it capitu- 
late without a siege. The fortress, the bulwark of Prus- 
sia, surrendered to Ney with sixteen thousand men, eight 
hundred cannon, and immense stores of war material. 
The taking of Magdeburg and Lubeck finished the Prus- 
sian campaign proper through the conquest of the heredi- 
tary states of the house of Brandenburg. 

The theatre of the v/ar was next transferred to Prussian 
Poland. The French, following up their successes, soon 
found themselves in the presence of the Russian army, 
to whose defeat Ney contributed gloriously at the passage 
of the Vistula, at Mohrungen, where he rescued Bema- 
dotte, who was hard beset by the whole of the Russian 
forces. And at Koenigsberg Ney cut off General Bening- 
sen's retreat, and forced him to retire behind the Pregel. 

I applied to General La Riboisiere, to whom I had con- 
fided my plans, and who showed me where Marshal Ney's 
corps was, also assisting me to reach him. At a later 
time, when I confessed to my friend what valuable ser- 
vices this good artillery general had rendered me, Ney ex- 



128 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

pressed great annoyance. He vigorously reiterated his 
order to me to obey his instructions, which were never to 
take any one into my confidence. 

"Take a courageous and reliable servant," he said. 
" With him, with money, and with brains, you will require 
no patronage or help, and can go anywhere." 

I had been fortunate enough to find at Magdeburg a 
capital orderly, a Saxon by name of Hans, who was drawn 
by a natural bent towards the French. I was thus ex- 
onerated from employing a native guide. Hans spoke 
French with some fluency and was fairly conversant with 
Polish, which knowledge was most useful to me at the 
end of my journey, when we reached the seat of war. 

As we approached the camp I heard guns booming, and 
found the road encumbered with wounded men and bag- 
gage trains. I learned from the soldiers that the Rus- 
sians were near, and that Ney was attacking them. Join- 
ing this column on its march, at a halt in a village, I asked 
permission of a surgeon, who had himself been wounded 
in the discharge of his perilous duties, to distribute some 
money. He smiled, and advised me to go no further than 
the village, if I expected to do without his medical aid. I 
gave a few of the wounded a flask of madeira and one of 
brandy, for which they thanked me warmly. 

We were about to mount our horses again, and leave the 
ambulance waggons behind, when of a sudden a succession 
of different troops began to crowd upon us. They all 
hurtled against each other on a road choked with horses 
and vans. The march continued over villainous ground. 
The guns stuck in the mud. We found individual soldiers 
posted along the route They were dragoons who were 
acting as signposts for the reinforcements. Everybody 
was anticipating and preparing for a battle. All were 
cheerful, impatient to fight, and full of faith in the ability 
of their commander and the power of their bayonets. 
The battle of Eylau was impending. 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 129 

I passed through the lines with my servant with as 
much tranquilHty as if I had been riding in the Bois de 
Boulogne. The wretched hamlet of Eylau had been aban- 
doned by its inhabitants, and likewise all the houses for 
four or five miles round. 

The affair opened with a cannon shot. I know not what 
possessed me, but I headed my horse at a gallop towards 
the immediate scene of attack. I could clearly make out 
the order of battle. I saw a division get into motion, sup- 
ported by thirty pieces of artillery. A general officer 
fell. The attack became general. The battalions were 
unable to advance in line. In the twinkling of an eye, 
without even losing step, the first row fired, and, opening 
in the middle, to right and left, fell back to the rear, mak- 
ing way for the next row to take its place in front. 

The snow was falling in heavy flakes upon the field of 
slaughter. Hans took me by a side road to the shelter 
of a ruined hovel. I alighted from horseback, and wanted 
to despatch my servant to find out how we could get back 
to the main road and eventually hit upon Ney's corps. 
Hans obstinately refused to obey, exclaiming: "Dead or 
alive, I will not leave my master!'' 

A sudden clamour and shouting made us jump into our 
saddles again. The cuirassiers had made an onslaught on 
one of the Russian positions, and had been repulsed. 
The infantry in its turn moved to the attack. Soon the 
advance became general, and Hans and I fell in behind a 
squadron of the Montbrun division. 

How mistaken are they who, never having witnessed 
a battle, believe the officers to be less exposed than the 
men ! At Eylau I saw the whole staff of a division 
charge at the head of it. For a moment the light cavalry 
was thrown into confusion. But order was immediately 
restored through the prompt intrepidity of officers of the 
highest rank. Aides-de-camp galloped hither and thither 
utterly regardless of danger. 



I30 MEMOIRS OF A C(3NTEMP0RARY 

Deprived of a portion of their artillery, the Russians, 
after an incredible resistance, began to give way. The 
French bore down upon them with fury. In the course of 
the advance I was recognized by Caland, the baggage 
master of the third corps. He took me under his wing, 
and, far from scolding me for my rashness, spoke with 
praise of what he was pleased to call my bravery in 
the unadorned phraseology of battlefields: 

"You're a fine wench !" 

I asked Caland if he could tell me anything aboat Ney. 

"He is nmning after Woronsof's grenadiers. If you 
want to take supper with him you will have to go rather 
far to find him." 

The fighting had lasted from the morning, and it was 
now already past three o'clock. I thought I saw the 
light horse of the imperial guard, and rode towards them 
to satisfy myself, knowing their colonel, General Lefebvre 
Desnouettes, quite well. A few moments after these troops 
were hacking the Russian reserve to pieces in a charge. 
I had kept my presence of mind to a degree which, when I 
remember the excitement of that battlefield, surprises me, 
but which the circumstances and the scene can account 
for better than I. 

The movements of our troops had already left a free 
space for the ambulance corps to operate in. Our col- 
umns suddenly began a fresh advance. My horse bolted. 
Hans, perceiving this, urged my animal to still greater 
speed through his own efforts to keep pace with me. The 
charge was sounded. Our cavalry made one of its usual 
impetuous dashes. The Russians held their ground val- 
orously and skilfully. I still had the excellent pistols 
and the light sword given me by Moreau previous to his 
departure for Kehl. They were virgin weapons, as yet 
unused in any of my campaigns. This time the fray was 
so hot that I involuntarily put my sword in guard, not for 
assault but for defence. And I believe that in spite of this 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 131 

precaution I ducked my head more than once at seeing 
the terrible strokes which were being exchanged all about 
me. I was so tightly hemmed in that I lost my self- 
control, imagining myself being trampled under the 
horses' feet, and by a rapid motion I disengaged my 
hand. At that moment I received a stab over the 
left eye that sent the blood gushing over my face. I 
experienced no pain, but the sight of the blood made me 
feel faint. Hans at once pressed his horse up to mine, 
seized my bridle and dragged me out behind. 

I remained on my horse for some time, my head 
wrapped up in a handkerchief and my face considerably 
swollen. I dismounted near a hillock where I saw an 
example of the kindness of heart of the French soldiers, 
so terrible in the fury of battle. On the ground a Russian 
grenadier lay outstretched, with arms uplifted and mur- 
muring unintelligible things. A young French soldier of 
the line, wounded in the shoulder, summoned us to help 
him raise up the Russian, and let him drink from his own 
flask. The Russian died in his arms. 

I called to Hans. Struck by the sound of my voice, 
the infantryman scrutinized me narrowly, and said: 

"You are a woman, are you not?" 

"No, comrade!" 

" Then you are one of the kind who wear neither beard 
nor moustaches. Well, you are a good fellow, neverthe- 
less; let us go to the ambulance." 

We proceeded with difficulty, for the cold was severe, 
the darkness intense, and the roads were horrible. In 
the distance the guns were still growling at intervals. In 
a wretched village we came upon a tidy cottage where a 
good man and his wife lavished all the attentions upon 
me that my state demanded, and the flow of blood from 
my forehead was staunched. 

I found an opportunity to let Ney know of my plight 
through an artillery colonel of his acquaintance. Three 



132 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

disquieting days went by without a message from him. 
At last a calash came for me, and I forgot all my troubles. 
I was to see my friend once more, I knew he had been vic- 
torious. He had cut the Russians off from Koenigsberg. 
I felt worthy of his regard since I bore on my face the ir- 
refutable evidence of what I had gone through for the 
sake of reaching him. I drove by frightful roads, making 
but a single stop on the way. 

It was night when the calash turned into an ample court- 
yard, and its door was opened by Ney himself. He laid 
me tenderly down on a couch in a low ceilinged room. 
Whether it was from happiness, pain, or emotion, I was 
unable to utter a single word. Ney's voice and his looks 
told me eloquently enough that himself was deeply moved, 
although he endeavored to conceal it. After bestowing 
all the care upon me called for by my condition, Ney, 
always obedient to duty, told me that we must separate : 

" This is the only hour I can devote to you. You must 
go away, my friend ; you must leave the army as soon as 
you are in a fit state to travel." 

The victory of Eylau was dearly bought. Our losses 
had been heavy. Augereau was wounded. His terrible 
grenadiers, with "their hairy hats and their flaming 
pompoons," had been destroyed. The emperor wrote to 
the empress: 

" There was a great battle yesterday. The victory was 
mine, but I lost many men. The enemy's losses, which 
are worse still, are no consolation to me." 

My wound was more serious than it had at first ap- 
peared. When I was able to travel, Ney gave me my itin- 
erary, and with it my official order of departure. I did 
not venture to murmur against this unavoidable separa- 
tion. The sights of the war had made a profound im- 
pression upon me, and my respect for the sacred ties by 
which Ney was bound, and which established a barrier 
between us, imbued me with strength to bear the parting. 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 133 

My passion was stilled at the thought of the legitimate 
affection which I should have been ashamed to attempt 
to displace, and at the thought of the young and beautiful 
wife whom Ney so justly cherished, and of his children, 
his only pride next to his country's honour. 

Ney's splendid conduct in this campaign proved him 
worthy of the name of "the bravest of the brave," which 
the army afterwards unanimously conferred upon him. 
The soldiers, in their fashion of giving symbolical names, 
had, in the same way that they called Napoleon the 
"Little Corporal" because of his small stature, dubbed 
Ney the "Red Lion," because of his very light hair. 
When at the critical moment his cannons were heard in 
the distance, the soldiers would say to each other that it 
was the " Red Lion " growling, and that all would go well. 

I left Ney on the 24th of February, 1807. The journey 
was very painful. I did not count the days, but they 
seemed exceedingly long until I arrived at Nancy, I 
arrived there in worse condition than when I was first 
wounded. I remained at Nancy a few days only. I was 
obliged to stop at Bar and then at Chalons. At Thierry I 
became feverish. But I was determined upon continuing 
the journey by hook or by crook. Upon reaching Saint 
Denis, however, I could go no further, and Hans put me 
to bed. After a few days, with more courage mustered 
than health, I decided to move on to Paris. 

There I settled down for a time, living very quietly in 
a pretty house near Saint Cloud. Most of my friends 
were absent in the country or at the wars. Paris had no 
charm for me. My heart was with the French Army. 




GEXERAL JL.XOT, ULivE UABRA.XTLs 
{From the Painting by liaverat) 



CHAPTER XI 

junot's incipient madness — napoleon's sisters on 
thrones description of elisa bacciochi, grand 

DUCHESS OF TUSCANY IDA's APPOINTMENT TO HER 

COURT — REBELLIOUSNESS OF THE TUSCANS AGAINST 
FRENCH AUTHORITY — ■ A SOLDIER-SULTAN THE AU- 
THORESS' FUNCTIONS AT COURT THE HAINGUERLOTS, 

A FASHIONABLE PAIR PRINCE BACCIOCHI HIS WIFE'S 

LOYAL SUBJECT " THE LITTLE NAPOLEON " AUDI- 
ENCE WITH QUEEN CAROLINE OF NAPLES ROYAL 

FROCKS, FRILLS, AND SMALL TALK MURAT AS AN 

AMATEUR TRAGEDIAN HIS THEATRICAL BRAVERY. 

My health was long in becoming restored, and conclud- 
ing to seek final cure beyond the mountains, I started for 
Italy in the autumn of 1807. 

General Monchoisy, in command at Genoa for Prince 
Borghese, gave me a safe conduct for the Ligurian towns 
and the towns in the Apennines I wished to visit. There 
had been insurrectionary movements in Parma and Pia- 
cenza during the French occupation, Junot, who was 
commander-in-chief in those territories, put down the 
rebels with an iron hand, and had the villages burnt from 
which the revolt had first spread. Junot thereupon made 
a tour of that part of the country. He entered Bobbio 
in a grand procession, with aides-de-camp and high officials 
and with the church bells sounding a Te Deum. The 
general then gave the authorities an audience at his house. 

Sultan and general in one, Junot received his visitors 

135 



136 MEMOIRS OP A CONTEMPORARY 

reclining on a lounge draped with Oriental stuffs. His 
whole retinue of officers and officials remained standing. 
Only the women were allowed to sit down. And he in- 
sisted on their being young and handsome at that. Upon 
leaving the town, Junot, who was an excellent marksman, 
amused himself along the road by shooting a pistol at the 
peasants' poultry and ducks, from the back of his gallop- 
ing horse. But to show that his liberality was as fine as 
his aim, he threw a five-franc piece to every peasant who 
brought him a dead bird, and the poor villagers would 
make off in high glee with the victim and the money. 
But such strange actions pointed to a badly balanced 
brain. They were the first symptoms of the insanity to 
which the Due d'Abrantes was finally to succumb. 

At this time three sisters of Napoleon sat on ducal or 
royal thrones in Italy. Pauline Borghese was Duchess 
of Guastalla, Elisa Bacciochi Grand Duchess of Tuscany, 
and Caroline Murat Queen of Naples. If only one was a 
queen, the other two each had a court nevertheless. 
Pauline's I had already seeen, and some happy days were 
before me at Princess Bacciochi's. I hoped for a favour- 
able reception at the hands of the Grand Duchess, first 
because of my former acquaintance with Lucien, then 
through her own recollection of me, and finally owing to 
my intimacy of an hour with Napoleon. I had a letter, 
too, to M. de Chateauneuf, then grand chamberlain to 
Princess Elisa. 

Nothing was done at the courts of his relatives but 
what Napoleon was informed. The nominations for the 
smallest posts were submitted to his sovereign approval. 
But since the coronation festivities at Milan I feared least 
of all that the imperial grace would be withheld. 

At Florence I petitioned for a private audience with 
the Grand Duchess of Tuscany. From this very inter- 
view began her kindness towards me, which was to con- 
tinue and abound for four years after. Elisa was not 




PAULINE BOXAPARTE, PRINCESS BORGHESE 

{Fro>it the Engraving by Madame Fonrnier) 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 137 

beautiful; short, slender, almost lean, she yet possessed 
the various personal qualities which, combined with 
cleverness and liveliness, make a seductive woman. Her 
distinguished bearing made her appear well formed; in 
motion she was both graceful and dignified. Her feet 
were small, her hands were as perfect as her brother's — 
that brother who so liked his to be noticed. The loveliest 
of black eyes lit up her face, and she knew how to make 
the most of them when she wanted to be obeyed or ad- 
mired. None of Napoleon's brothers or sisters resembled 
him more than Elisa: she had a quick, alert, penetrating 
mind, a glowing imagination, a strong soul, and a touch 
of greatness. She was good enough to recognize me, and to 
remember having heard me recite poetry at Lucien Bona- 
parte's House. She promised to speak about me to M. 
de Chateauneuf, and to have an appointment given me 
at court. 

" You have cleverness and a good education," she said. 
" Try not to utilize them in making yourself enemies. 
The emperor, I am sure, will be pleased ■\A'ith my choice. 
His interest in you, and the good will of my brothers 
Louis and Joseph are a sure guarantee of my friendship. 
I hope your conduct will always be such as to merit it." 

Sometime after came the imperial ratification. The 
Grand Duchess commanded my presence at the palace 
to tell me of it, which she did in the most gracious manner 
possible. She asked about my relations with Moreau and 
my feelings for Michael Ney. In spite of the situation 
which kept us asunder, and the ties of duty I was obliged 
to respect, I told the Princess Elisa openly that I harboured 
a fraternal affection for Ney, passionate concerning his 
fame, but only friendly as to himself. She approved my 
sentiments, and repeated her good advice. 

Of all parts of Italy, Tuscany was that in which the 
French had found the strongest aversion current to their 
supremacy. The French officers were not many — to 



138 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

each of the nine poHtical divisions a prefect, a commis- 
sary general of police, a military commander, and a few 
Frenchmen in the highest places. The secondary posts 
were held mostly by Tuscans, whose judges sat in the 
offices at court, supplying all the chamberlains, equerries, 
chaplains, pages, &c. For the public safety there were 
the Italian troops, a few regiments from France, and the 
police. The undecided character of our first victories in 
the German campaign, Spain ready to fight us, the ab- 
sence of the French troops from their garrisons on active 
service — these circumstances encouraged our enemies 
in Italy to show their presumptuous defiance of us. 
Seditious manifestoes were every day placarded in Flor- 
ence, Pisa, and other towns. The peasants of Arezzo had 
already appeared with arms in their hands at the gates of 
Siena, and already the French and their partisans were 
being railed at. Our Italian friends were already com- 
piling proscription blacklists for future use. 

At this juncture of affairs, the Grand Duchess, seconded 
by General Menou, exhibited great strength. In concert 
with the generals she arranged energetic measures. An 
order was issued for the arming of all Oi icials, for the 
benefit of public defence. Even the lights Oi the law were 
not spared this impressment, and nothing was more di- 
verting than to see the learned judges of Italy obliged 
to leave their benches and buckle on swords. To being 
armed and equipped in military style they offered greater 
resistance than they probably would have to a bayonet 
charge. General Menou, who had been commander- 
in-chief of the forces in Piedmont before Prince Borghese, 
had retained the leadership of the twenty-seventh military 
district. He had accepted his backward promotion 
philosophically, consoling himself with making love to the 
actresses at the theatre in Turin. He was then seventy- 
two years old, enormously fat, very amiable and an in- 
corrigible spendthrift. The emperor had more than once 
paid his debts, but at last grew tired of doing so. 




PRINCESS BACCIOCHI, SISTER OF NAPOLEON 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 139 

Abdallah Menou, as he was nick-named, was forever 
plunging into fresh expenditures. He gave a carnival 
ball at Turin which lasted three days without intermission. 
New sets of musicians and dancers followed one another 
amid splendours that appeared never ending. The ball 
only came to a close on Ash Wednesday. This celebra- 
tion cost a huge sum, which Menou could not pay, and 
which Prince Borghese met from his private exchequer. 
Menou had brought back from Egypt, where he had be- 
come something of a Mussulman, an Arab woman whom 
he never took out with him. He was quite right, since 
this daughter of Mahomet was very ugly. General Menou, 
it is plain, was an individual with original tastes. How- 
ever, when the time came for action, he went to work 
vigorously enough. He wrote to the bishops saying that 
he held them responsible for the public peace, and that at 
the first outbreak in their dioceses he would throw them 
into prison. He promised the bishops that if blood was 
spilt they should be made martyrs of. This was a good 
system; the country remained quiet. 

My actual fimctions were those of reader to the Grand 
Duchess, and because of her kindness I did my best to 
please her. She particularly liked my declamation of 
Tasso's and Ariosto's harmonious lines. Nominally a 
member of the court theatre, I drew a salary for duties I 
was never called upon to perform. The princess treated 
me with the greatest liberality, defraying all my travel- 
ling expenses. My work was very light, since it was 
really that of a substitute. The official reader was Mme. 
Tomasi, whom the Grand Duchess found solemn, frigid, 
and stiff, caring for nothing but the rules of etiquette. 
But when I read to my mistress, not a lady-in-waiting 
was there, not a maid of honour; there was not a sign of 
formality nor of difference in rank. I read aloud, at my 
own choice, such selections from the Italian and French 
poets and prosaists as I judged best suited to the princess' 
mood or her general predilections. 



I40 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

Among the high officials at court, I will mention Hain- 
guerlot, the receiver-general. This person, his hair pow- 
dered like a nobleman's in the pre-Revolutionary era, 
his waist slim and his port as proud as a fashionable 
dandy's, fastidious and dainty from the diamond in his 
shirt-frill to the enamelled buckles on his shoes, partook 
at once of the aristocrat, the contractor, and the lady- 
killer, M. Hainguerlot, who was perhaps as well educated 
as anyone else, made no effort to show it, and was endowed 
with an unusual talent of pleasing. He excelled in what 
I might call the spirit of the Directory, an expression 
which will be barely appreciated excepting by those who 
have studied the morals and manners of that period. It 
was a mixture of smart and rather noisy mirthfulness 
and of great freedom of speech and principles. This was 
well adapted to M. Hainguerlot's character, and shed a 
natural grace upon his facile and opulent ways. He was 
married to one of the "wonderful women" of the Direc- 
tory. 

During the years preceding the Consulate, Mme. 
Hainguerlot, with Mme, Tallien, Mme. Bonaparte, and 
Mme. Recamier, whose intimate she then was, cut a con- 
spicuous figure in the gay life of Parisian society. Very 
tall and thin, she was less handsome than her friends, but 
dressed with the most exacting taste, and bore herself 
with distinction. The minute pains she bestowed upon 
her toilet were reflected in her speech and manner, which 
bristled with affectations, not so much when she was at 
home, as when she was in society. Under the Directory 
she gave brilliant teas at her house in the Rue Mont-Blanc. 
There were charades, readings dancing, conversation. 
Boufflers, a frequenter of the house, called Mme, 
Hainguerlot the Tenth Muse, The compliment was 
pronounced to be somewhat of an exaggeration. At 
Mme. Hainguerlot's, as at Lime. Hamelin's, the fashion- 
ables of the financial world, conspicuous for extravagance, 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 141 

gathered together. Some of the bankers, drawn into ex- 
cessive speculation, became insolvent about the beginning 
of the Empire, while others, like Hottinger, were able to 
maintain a justly honoured and respected name in the 
highest financial circles through long years. 

At the Grand Duchess' private parties the guests talked 
and laughed freely, played billiards, and occasionally hide- 
and-go-seek. The simplest amusements became through 
the place and the persons the most delightful and excit- 
ing pleasures. Ices, sherbet, and punch circulated as 
liberally as witty sayings. The princess would make 
me recite poetry, but the honour of reading out the bulle- 
tins from the grand army she reserved to herself. 

Prince Felix Bacciochi, the scion of a substantial Corsi- 
can family, and endowed with such valour as had paved 
his way to a fine military career, properly understood and 
accepted the exigencies of the situation which he owed 
to the marvellous fortimes of his brother-in-law, whose 
whole family had risen with them. He had submitted to 
the emperor's wishes with a good grace, and had cheer- 
fully resigned himself to being his wife's loyal subject. 
Elisa governed in her own name. She was grand duchess ; 
the prince was her husband, not her equal. Gifted with 
a good personal appearance and with enough brains for 
a handsome man, Bacciochi was Elisa's consort only in 
the conjugal sense of the word. Their union was no more 
than an exchange of regard and polite attentions. Prince 
Felix did not live with his sovereign. He inhabited an- 
other mansion in Florence, known as his court, whose 
denizens were chiefly of the military persuasion. 
Model wife and husband, Elisa and Felix, although com- 
pulsorily separated, in public and at the theatre exhib- 
ited the most cordial relations — ^he deferential, she affec- 
tionate and dignified, both unconstrained and unembar- 
rassed, with their child sitting at the front of the box as 
a token of their marriage. This child was a pretty little 



142 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

girl, whose face was reminiscent of her father's good looks 
and her mother's cleverness. All her motions were full 
of impatience and vivacity. She would show her small 
pride in her name in an original manner, by exclaiming 
either in anger or in joy: 

"I am the little Napoleon !" 

Her minute highness was fond of talking charity. One 
day she gave this exuberant answer : 

" But I am the little Napoleon, so I must be better than 
other children, because I am much happier!" 

The performance ended with the fall of the curtain at 
the theatre. The prince escorted the princess to her car- 
riage, and then both returned to their homes — and their 
liberty. On the days of state entertainments Felix was 
always in attendance upon Elisa. Had it not been for 
the vows exchanged at the altar between the sister of 
Napoleon I. and the adjutant Bacciochi, he would have 
infallibly have been taken for her chief equerry. 

Desiring to see Naples, where Murat, the husband of 
Napoleon's sister Caroline was reigning as Joachim I. 
King of the two Sicilies, I obtained a two months* leave 
of absence from Florence, and was furnished b}^ the grand 
duchess with a letter of introduction to Caroline and one 
to Murat. 

I was granted an audience with the queen at Caserta, 
the royal summer residence near Naples. Upon arriv- 
ing at Caserta from Naples, I walked about the lovely 
gardens belonging to the palace while the queen was com- 
pleting her toilet. I was finally ushered into a room where 
I found her alone. Her son Achilles, the heir to the crown, 
and his tutor, M. Baudus, had just left her. She was 
good enough to make me an apology for keeping me 
waiting. I bowed with due respect. The queen had a 
sneering chuckle whenever she spoke, which grew both 
tiresome and painful. By nature awkward and dull, 
she did her utmost to be affable that day. 




CAROLINE MURAT. QUEEX OF NAPLES. SISTER OF 
NAPOLEON 

{From an Engraving by Hopuvod) 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 143 

Of a sudden a lady-in-waiting came hurriedly into the 
room. True that the reason of her haste was profound. 
A box of new fashions had arrived from Paris by a special 
messenger, and at the same time fresh and severer in- 
structions concerning the "continental blockade" against 
England. Forthwith, the queen, oblivious of etiquette 
and royal dignity, ordered the box to be brought to her 
at once. With her own hands she pulled out the dresses 
and cloaks and hats and trimmings, which soon littered 
the whole floor. 

"How does my sister Elisa dress?" asked the Queen 
of Naples. " What colour suits her best? How do you 
think I look in this hat ? Napoleon, you know, between 
victories remembers to send us these trifles, which are so 
important to us women ! ' ' 

And so she rattled on. Then going on to more serious 
subjects, she talked to me about the Neapolitans, their 
customs, their tastes, about her efforts and the king's to 
make them happy. This audience lasted an hour. 

My presentation to King Joachim was a more ceremo- 
nious affair. Prince Pignatelli conducted me to the king's 
apartments, and I was invited to wait in an ante-chamber. 

While examining this royal ante-chamber with a wom- 
man's curiosity, I heard something like a low plaintive 
murmur proceed from the room adjoining. My blood 
froze in my veins. Ever ready to conjure up imaginary 
scenes of terror, I conceived that a plot against Murat's 
life was perhaps being carried out, and already pictured 
an assassin plunging an Italian stiletto into his heart. 
Listening intently, I heard the plaint grow louder and 
longer. There could be no doubt about it. The king's 
study was the theatre of some struggle involving threats 
and violence. The chamberlain on duty, meanwhile, 
who was much nearer the door of the study than myself, 
evinced not the least sign of either surprise or emotion. 
Did he not hear? Was he an accomplice in the crime 
being committed so near him, with only a door and a curtain 



144 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

between ? I unconsciously took a step towards the door. 
Then only did the chamberlain seem to take any note of 
my anxiety, and addressed me as follows: 

" Please to be reassured, Madam. His Majesty is in no 
danger. The king is beloved here in Naples. The 
affection of his people and the devotion of his trusted 
ones would be sufficient guarantee against the possibility 
of a criminal assault. The noise you have just been 
observing was made by His Majesty in person. The 
king has a marked taste for the drama, especially for 
tragedies of the kind that elevate. A well-known actor 
often comes here to play Talma's parts to the king in 
private. His Majesty, who has a prodigious memory, 
and knows these tragic roles by heart, prompts the actor 
if necessary, and himself recites the lines of the Cid, or 
Tancred, or Orosmane, as the case may be. To-day, I 
admit, the proceedings are unusually animated, and might 
readily frighten anyone like yourself who was unaware 
of the innocent amusement His Majesty is indulging in." 

A bell sounded, and then a man with a shaven chin 
issued from the royal study. He looked quite harmless, 
not at all like a conspirator. Another bell annoimced 
that the king was ready to give his next audience. Prince 
Pignatelli answered the bell, remained inside a few mo- 
ments, came back, and took me into the presence of King 
Joachim. 

Murat was standing in the middle- of his large study, 
dressed as if for a state ball, in a costume of bright silk, 
his head surmounted by a waving plume. He had curly 
hair, a brown complexion, eyes that were at the same 
time soft and vivacious, and a proud, erect head. The 
most extraordinary thing was that, in spite of his silly 
troubadour garb, he was not at all ridiculous, but seemed 
natural and unaffected, talking quite pleasantly and spon- 
taneously. 

I was at once astonished and dazzled. The king ap- 
peared gratified at the impression he made upon me, 




JOACHIM MURAT, KING OF NAPLES 
(From an Engraving PiiblisJied in London in 1814) 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 145 

and spoke to me most civilly, with a touch of gallantry. 
He talked about Florence, the grand duchess' Court, 
Elisa's guard of honour, whose splendid bearing he had 
often heard praised, but who could not compare with his 
own Neapolitan light horse, &c. He invited me to attend 
the forthcoming review of his troops, and graciously ex- 
pressed the hope that I should enjoy my visit to Naples, 
and that I would stay there for some time. I took my 
leave very well pleased with the affable reception accord- 
corded me by His Majesty, who with engaging politeness 
walked to the door of his study with me. I was delighted 
to have met, at close quarters, the soldier who, with Ney, 
was known as the bravest among the brave, the dashing 
horseman who led charges against the enemy with a riding 
whip in his hand, the theatrical monarch whom it secretly 
amused to have his fine clothes and his plumes a 
target for shot in battle. 

Murat, much better adapted for government than 
Joseph, whom he had succeeded as King of Naples, him- 
self achieved the conquest of the hearts of his people. 
He needed not the assistance of his " Parisian brother-in- 
law," as he called Napoleon, to establish public order. 
A sick man when he came to take the throne, in spite of 
menacing warnings he had made his entry on horseback, 
without a surrounding escort, twenty yards in front of his 
staff, exposing his breast boldly to the popular wrath. 
He had thus won the regard of the Neapolitans. 

My position at Florence became more dehghtful day 
by day. But all the while the memory of Ney was alive 
in a comer of my heart, which remained faithful to him 
during what I might designate as my fraternal widow- 
hood. In the course of my readings to Princess Elisa, I 
would frequently to stop to ask for news about the move- 
ments of the French armies. Far from resenting this, the 
princess willingly gave me all the particulars I requested. 
In this way I was kept well informed as to all the great 
wars and the part played in them by Michael Ney. 



CHAPTER XII 

THE FATAL RUSSIAN EXPEDITION JOURNEY TO MOSCOW 

WITH NIDIA THE FRENCH THEATRE AT MOSCOW 

BURNING OF THE CITY BY THE RUSSIANS A SCENE OF 

DEVASTATION AND PILLAGE — ■ UNSCRUPULOUS LOOTING 

BY THE FRENCH TROOPS DIFFICULTIES IN PASSING THE 

DNIEPER NIDIA AND IDA SHOOT SOME COSSACKS 

PRIVATIONS OF WOMEN DURING THE RETREAT AND 

WORSE THE BREAKING DOWN OF THE BERESINA 

BRIDGE A HEARTRENDING EPISODE THE LAST OF 

NIDIA THE " BRAVEST OF THE BRAVE " DID HE BEAT 

THE "contemporary"? 

The famous Russian expedition was about to begin. If 
what I have already written about my adventurous 
career has not shown what a daring spirit I had, it should 
be enough to say that I unhesitatingly made up my mind 
to chance the perils of the campaign of 1812. 

Well provided with the wherewithal, due to the gener- 
ous bounty of Elisa, I was able to gratify my fancies. I 
was granted a leave of absence from Florence. I took 
no one into my confidence. Nor did I write to Ney, since 
he would have interposed his formal veto. I set out with 
scarcely a hope that I should so much as gain his appro- 
bation by exposing myself to all these fresh dangers for his 
sake. Disguised as a man I followed the rear of the army. 
As far as Poland I absolved that part of the journey con- 
veniently enough in a post chaise. But from there on 

147 



148 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

things grew more hazardous. Always in the midst of 
strangers and convoys, I was Hable to the worst perils 
that a woman has to fear, I had letters to a few of the 
generals, and this was the only measure of precaution I 
had taken. Arriving at Wilna, where the headquarters 
had been established, I saw a gigantic army assembled, 
whose acclaim, "Long live Napoleon!" in six different 
languages was but the prelude to a disaster without pre- 
cedent in the history of man. 

There were many women accompanying the troops. I 
was fortunate enough to find a friend among them in the 
person of a young Lithuanian whose enthusiasm for the 
French had made a heroine of her. She had given Prince 
Eugene s®me important information regarding the move- 
ments of Platow. In her martial transports Nidia was, 
however, taken up with a secret and intense passion. 
Alas, in that terrible war she sustained the loss of him 
who inspired her with so much courage — the valiant 
General Montbrun. 

At this stage I was travelling in a party of four women. 
We moved onwards, according to the progress of the 
army, in its rear We journeyed now in a carriage, now 
in a sledge, and later on walked or rode on horseback, ever 
braving fatigues which only love and patriotism can ren- 
der supportable. Two of the women succumbed. Nidia 
andl, seasoned campaigners, held out. After one march 
of thirty miles through almost impracticable swamps, we 
halted in a wretched little village. Here we heard of the 
immortal feat of the Moskwa, which brought Ney his 
prince's title, Nidia learnt later on of the death of 
General Montbrun, who was all her joy. 

We at length reached Moscow, of which our troops took 
possession on the T6th of September. The great city 
seemed a huge tomb to us. Its empty streets and deserted 
houses oppressed the soul. We were lodged near the 
Mimonoff mansion, which was occupied by Prince 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 149 

Eugene. The sight of this young hero, and the shouts of 
the soldiers which greeted his arrival, for the moment 
rocked us upon illusions of victory. We had gone to sleep 
and were in the happy land of dreams when we were 
aroused by gleaming flames, the yells of pillagers, and all 
the horrors of a town on fire. Our doors were battered 
down by some soldiers of the fourth corps, who warned us 
to escape at once from our house, which had already be- 
gun to bum. We, like the whole army, had expected to 
find comfortable quarters in Moscow, and in the holy city 
of Russia to enjoy the repose we needed after all the hard- 
ships and sufferings undergone in the attainment of this 
wonderful remote city, this gate of Asia. But we had 
counted without Russian ferocity. 

For several years there had been at Moscow a French 
theatre, whose members were much liked by the Russians. 
The Franco-Russians, as they were called, never in any 
way took a hand in politics. Nevertheless, the gover- 
nor of Moscow, when he left the town, took away with him 
forty French residents, among whom was the stage- 
manager of this theatre, M. Domergue. These unfortun- 
ates were carried off to the interior of Russia, where they 
were kept as prisoners until peace was declared. Upon 
reaching Moscow we found the actresses of the troupe 
eagerly awaiting the French as liberators. There were 
Mme. Domergue, Mme. Fusil, Mme. Verteuil, Mme. de 
Bumay, and others whose names I do not remember. 
Mme. Domergue, the wife of the stage-manager taken 
away into captivity by the Russians, was suckling a 
young baby. Her house being on fire, she rushed into the 
street as the emperor was passing by. 

" Have pity on me. Your Majesty !" she cried. " Save 
my child!" 

"Do not be alarmed, Madam," replied the emperor, 
"do not be alarmed; you and your child shall be taken 
care of." 



ISO MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

Mme. Domergue followed the emperor's staff to the 
Perowski palace, the temporary headquarters of the army, 
where she and her baby were taken care of. 

When the emperor returned to the Kremlin, and until 
the eve of the departure of the army, by command of His 
Majesty the French actors gave performances in the thea- 
tre of the castle. One of the actresses — belonging to the 
French troupe — whom we met on the very day of our 
arrival at Moscow, Mme. Louise Fusil, was of the 
greatest help to us, and told us about the preparations for 
the great calamity. She had witnessed the departure of 
the Russian troops, the nobility, the rich merchants, the 
ordinary citizens, in fact the whole Russian population, 
which had left the city doomed to the flames by barbaric 
patriotism. In this savage exodus, the sacred images — 
the guardian saints of the city— had been taken out last 
of all in a procession, amid the wailings of the kneeling 
populace apprehensive of the gravest misfortunes. Even 
before the arrival of the French the police had warned the 
inhabitants to evacuate Moscow : the town was to be set 
on fire. Thereupon the fire engines had gone. The 
police, too, left Moscow, but not without first opening the 
doors of the prisons and putting torches and fire- 
bombs into the hands of the wretched inmates. Most of 
the houses of Moscow were built of wood. A few of them 
and the large mansions were of stone, with sheet-metal 
roofs whose deal frame- work was highly inflammable. 
The fire broke out in several quarters at once. Small red 
balloons, charged with Congreve fuses, were sent up into 
the air by the Russian incendiaries, and fell down among 
the houses. The conflagration spread very rapidly. A 
violent wind was blowing. For four nights the brightness 
caused by the fire was such as to be the equivalent of 
daylight. 

We were, as I said, driven out of our dwelling by the 
flames. After the fire had passed over it we went back. 







O 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 151 

The sights we saw were both sad and awful. We made 
an encampment surrotmded by ruins. A table was set up 
in the middle of the street. On every side were burning 
houses and smoking ruins. We were covered with ashes 
blown upon us by the wind. Incendiaries caught with 
torches or ends of tow, soaked in oil, were being marched 
by close at hand. Tipsy soldiers passed, dragging the loot 
with them which they had captured. Truly they were 
phantoms of the infernal regions ! The churches were 
full of old men, women and children, who, having relied 
upon an ancient tradition that the holy city was im- 
pregnable, were now giving way to unbounded despair. 

There was a Roman Catholic church at AIoscow, whose 
venerable pastor had lived in Russia for many years, and 
was beloved by the Muscovites. Round his church was a 
large space built over with wooden huts, where the poor 
might always find a refuge. Seeing the town on fire and 
being plundered by the frantic soldiery, many of the old 
men, women and children of the labouring class fled to 
the enclosure belonging to the church, imploring the good 
old French priest for protection. When the soldiers 
knocked at the gates the minister opened them in his 
sacerdotal vestments, crucifix in hand, and surrounded by 
the poor moujiks. He spread out his arms towards the 
French soldiers, who reverently drew back. Napoleon, 
being notified of the occurrence, thenceforth had the 
church guarded. Otherwise there were sentinels only at 
the storehouses. The streets were overrun with soldiers 
roving about at large, and pilfering all articles of value 
they could lay hands on. I saw two of them dragging 
along a pretty young Russian woman. They did not 
maltreat her, but used all their eloquence to persuade her 
that she was to be envied at being singled out by the two 
handsomest grenadiers of the French army. My friend 
Nidia and I thought it our duty to interfere. The mere 
mention of Ney and Montbrun sufficed to make the men 



152 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORx\RY 

desist from their purpose. The names we invoked acted 
Hke a talisman. The grenadiers immediately relinquished 
their hold of the "private person," whom we had the 
pleasure of restoring to her friends. Nearly dead with 
fatigue, we were finally lodged through the kindness of 
Prince Eugene in one of the pavilions of the castle. The 
general staff was in tents all about us. 

In the beginning of a retreat through a forsaken, devas- 
tated country, the camps were full of luxurious things. 
There were carriages, rich furniture, carpets, pictures, and 
statues, and the horses grazed in the gardens. Good 
humour still reigned supreme. As yet privations had not 
dampened mirth. Gaiety and gallantry were so to speak 
the last surviving virtues in this war. We were treated 
with consideration by everyone. 

Presently morals began to loosen. Everybody's most 
useful property vanished. All day you would hear: 
" Oh ! someone has stolen my portmanteau ! " Or, " Some- 
one has stolen my haversack!" Or, "Someone has 
stolen my bread !" Or, "Someone has stolen my horse !" 
And so on from private soldier to general. 

The emperor made an often quoted joke during the 
awful retreat from Russia. Seeing one of his officers 
wrapped up in a magnificent fur coat, he called to him, 
laughing : 

"Where did you steal that?" 

"Your Majesty, I bought it!" 

"Yes, you bought it from someone who was asleep !" 

Mme. Fusil, the French actress we had met at Moscow, 
took part, like other Franco-Russians, in the retreat of 
the army. She had fallen in with a nephew of M. de 
Caulaincourt, an orderly officer to the emperor, and 
travelled in a comfortable carriage with the imperial staff 
as far as Smolensk. There was but one bridge over the 
Dnieper giving access to the other bank. The road was 
choked up; all wanted to cross the river at once. The 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 153 

approaches to the bridge were guarded, and its passage was 
superintended by general officers. You would hear them 
exclaiming: "Let marshal so and so pass!" Or "Let 
general so and so pass !" 

Nidia and I were waiting for our turn, and were glad to 
encounter Mme. Fusil, who applied to General de la Rib- 
oisi^re. She begged him to allow our carriage to pass, 
which had been waiting all day. Our horses were quite 
worn out. I seconded the petition, lamenting that we 
should be lost if we did not join the general staff. In spite 
of my toughness I burst into tears. 

"Wait a moment," said the good general, touched by 
my woeful state, "I will do my best to get you across," 

He contrived to send our carriage over in the Prince d' 
Eckmiihl's train. The servant in charge of the prince's 
luggage thought our friend was a general's wife, and 
showed her marked civility. All along the bridge were 
impatient officers waiting for their regiments. For the 
Cossacks were not far off. The bridge once passed, another 
danger was in store for us. The wheels of our carriage 
stuck in the mud. Now, any vehicle that obstructed the 
road was burnt. Our situation was critical. On all sides 
we heard shouts of "That carriage is blocking the way ! 
Set fire to it !" The soldiers were eager for booty. But 
an officer took pity on us, and commanded: 

"To the wheels, men !" 

Extricated from the mire, our carriage was now able 
to proceed on the journey, while Mme. Fusil rejoined 
the imperial staff. We parted from our compatriot 
thanking and blessing her from the bottom of our hearts. 

A number of the soldiers wore fur-lined satin cloaks 
over their uniforms. Moustachioed, helmeted veterans 
of the imperial guard had on blue or pink pelisses, after 
the manner of the fashionable Muscovite ladies. The 
old "grumblers" privately laughed at their masquerade. 

We left Smolensk on the 17th of November, 18 12, tak- 



154 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

ing the direction of "Wilna. On the wa}' we met one of 
General Oniano's cavalry' regiments, belonging to the 
Duke de Reggio's corps. Up till then no Cossacks 
had molested us. They now for the first time appeared 
beliind our unguarded carriage with their insolent 
"hurrahs." Nidia fired eight pistol-shots at them, of 
which five took effect, and I, after some hesitation, fired 
a shot which went home. The Cossacks, thus kept at 
bay for an instant, showed their heels when they heard 
the gallop of our cavalr}-. Platow's soldiers' favoiuite 
exploits were attacks upon baggage trains. 

On another occasion — near Viazma — Nidia became 
engaged in a hand-to-hand fight with a Cossack. Dis- 
covering her to be a woman, desire prompted him to re- 
double his efforts. Fortunately, once more timely rescue 
came. The Cossacks scampered away over the snow like 
a flock of crows. Arri\"ing in camp, Nidia was acclaimed 
by the soldiers to whom in the midst of hardships and 
peril she was setting such an example of courage and 
strength of soul. 

In one of these conflicts Nidia had a womid inflicted 
upon her near the temple. She was by my side, and 
fright made me remember my sex. For a moment I be- 
came iuiner\'ed and began to sob. 

"For God's sake keep calm!" said Nidia in a much 
firmer voice than mine. "If I stay behind I shall be 
killed. Let me get on a horse." And, her head once 
bandaged, the brave Lithuanian sat her steed with a res- 
olution which would have been surprising in anyone 
else. 

As long as we had provisions we shared them with the 
most necessitous. And we were rewarded. For the 
weak and the needy often shared their poor fare vdth. us. 
At some of our \\Tetched meals the only course was horse- 
flesh, ^ly stomach turned at the sight of it. A little flour 
was left, and by a strict order a certain quantity in spoon- 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORx\RY 155 

fuls was doled out to each officer. A yoirng sub-lieuten- 
ant, whom horseflesh also disgusted, was nevertheless 
generous enough to surrender some of his portion to us, 
and others did likewise. The accounts of this campaign 
have truly depicted the painful side of it, the sufferings 
and the hunger. When the extreme rigours of winter 
began, with the intense cold and the violent snowstorms, 
the army's plight became terrible. M. de Segur has far 
from exhausted the details of this dreadful retreat. I 
have known unfortimate women to pay for the privilege 
of warming themselves at a camp fire, or for a day's filthy 
rations, with the most humiliating favours. And I 
have known them to be left to perish by the roadside, 
abandoned by the men who in the miseries of the morrow 
forgot their victims of the day before. 

Some months later I met Mme. Fusil in Paris. She 
recounted what happened to her after she had passed the 
Dnieper. She was left by the roadside, perishing with 
cold, when luckily Marshal Lefebvre and his humane 
surgeon-in-chief, Desgenettes, came upon her. They 
swathed her in furs and took her to a farmhouse. The 
marshal made her drink some strong coffee from a goblet 
which he begged her to retain as a keepsake. He invited 
her to continue the journey in his carriage, which already 
bore his dangerously wounded son. The grateful actress 
bestowed every possible care upon the young man. Next 
day the carriage passed the Beresina, a few minutes only 
before the breaking down of the bridge. When that 
shocking disaster occurred, the retreating French troops 
— all disorganized and demoralized, and the while sus- 
taining the Russian artillery fire — had been pouring 
across this bridge for three days. Nidia and myself had 
found shelter under two waggons coupled together, where 
a canteen woman and her two children were waiting for a 
favourable opportunity to get across — which we did with 
General Gerard's division. 



156 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

We were far from the scene of the catastrophe when it 
occurred, but Mme. Fusil had witnessed it from close 
quarters. 

"When the bridge gave way," she said, "we heard a 
shriek go up from the throng, a single, indescribable 
shriek. It still sounds in my ear whenever I think of that 
day ! All the poor creatures left on the other bank of the 
river were being mowed down by the enemy's shots. It 
was then that the real horror of the situation became 
apparent. The ice was too thin. It yielded, and men, 
women, horses, vehicles were swallowed up. We saw a 
woman, holding her infant in her arms, wedged in between 
two floes. An attempt was made to save her by holding 
out a gun to her. She tried to seize the end of it, but the 
very struggles she made in the effort made the ice divide 
and she went down with her child. I could endure those 
terrible sights no longer, and turned away. My own fate 
was remarkable. If I had not been left behind in the 
snow, I should not have been found by Marshal Lefebvre, 
and like so many of the fugitives should have been 
drowned in the Beresina. When I came back to France, 
if I was presented or recommended to anyone, it was 
always with the formula: 'She crossed the Beresina.'" 

Concerning myself, the Beresina once behind me, I felt 
that I was safe, and that I should once more set foot in 
France. But before seeing my adopted country again, a 
sad grief befel me. For Nidia had reached her country, 
and was to return to the parental hearth. I vainly 
endeavoured to induce her to come with me. She refused. 
So we parted, each going our own way as destiny bade us. 
I shed tears at parting from this admirable and heroic 
girl, who, alas, met her death at Torgau, at the passage 
of the Elbe. 

The remains of the army at length quitted Russian soil, 
and entered Polish Prussia. At Marienwerder I met a 
private soldier of the third corps, who had been wounded 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 157 

by a bullet while close to Marshal Ney. My eagerness to 
get the news from the man who uttered that cherished 
name may easily be imagined, 

"You saw him, then?" I enquired. 

" Yes, Madam, and he was all the time in front with the 
firing line. I loaded my gun only a few paces from him. 
His behaviour was enough to put heart into the worst 
coward. It was he who saved us by boldly putting the 
river between us and Milodarowitch's soldiers. It was 
then that the gallant marshal rushed into our midst, 
exclaiming : ' Men, will you desert a commander who has 
never deserted you ? If the worst comes to the worst, I 
will go alone !'" 

The soldier then told me what particulars he knew of the 
retreat from Moscow, in which Ney won glory immortal 
and because of which he was by the whole army called 
"the bravest of the brave." 

The misery that all ranks of the army were subjected to 
from highest to lowest had not diminished the power of 
gold. By money, therefore, I found the means of making 
my presence known. I learnt that Ney was to pass by a 
certain spot, and posted myself in a tumbledown hut near 
by. My men's clothes were in a lamentably ragged condi- 
tion, and it seemed unlikely that anyone could recognize 
me for a woman. But at the first glance Ney knew who 
I was. I was about to rush towards him, when he burst 
out into vigorous language, very different in sentiment 
from my disposition towards him, accompanied by a 
violent gesture. 

" What are you doing here ? What do you want ? Go 
away at once!" he exclaimed. 

Then came some blunt reprimands because of my 
rashness, because of my mania for following him about 
everywhere. In vain did I try to say a few words, and to 
appeal to him by pointing to the state of my clothes. 
He cared neither for what I said, nor for the sight I pre- 



158 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

sented. There was no stopping his wrath at finding me 
where he did. He let me understand it, too, in the most 
emphatic terms. Thunderstruck at such treatment, I 
stood stark for an hour, staring blankly at nothing, yet 
still seeming to see him before me. The next year, when 
I reminded Ney of his fury, which was followed by such 
cruel neglect, he told me that he- had felt so mortally 
wrought up over my recklessness in exposing myself to 
the dangers and license of a campaign, that he had even 
been tempted to beat me. Indeed, the temptation was 
so strong that I am not quite sure he had not yielded to it. 

At Serokodia, I might have spoken with him again. 
He had just won another battle. But I contented myself 
with listening to the shouts of joy of his troops at a dis- 
tance. The interview at Marienwerder had somewhat 
cooled my ardour. My feelings for Ney were now mingled 
with fear. He afterwards (1813) scolded me for associ- 
ating myself with Nidia and remaining with Prince 
Eugene's army. I explained to the marshal thatEugene's 
solicitude had been for Nidia only, and that I had kept 
in the background while benefiting by the prince's 
favours. Ney had all sorts of notions in ;his head, and 
would not believe my earnest protestations 

Since to meet him again during the rest of the retreat 
would have been to risk another scene like that at Marien- 
werder, I took good care not to seek such a diversion 
once more. 







LOUIS BONAPARTE, KING OF HOLLAND. 



CHAPTER XIII 

JOURNEY TO STYRIA — LOUIS BONAPARTE, KING, NOVEL- 
IST, POET AND PHILANTHROPIST MEETING WITH NEY 

IN THE CHAMPS ELYSEES — A PRIVATE BACHELOR'S 
BREAKFAST WITH THE MARSHAL — HIS TIRADE AGAINST 

ROYALIST INTRIGUERS AND FLUNKEY POLITICIANS 

A GLIMPSE AT NAPOLEON'S PLEBEIAN MOTHER COM- 
MERCIAL DEPRESSION AT THE FRENCH METROPOLIS 

IN 1814 THE LOWER CLASSES REGARD NAPOLEON 

AS THE SYMBOL OF THE REVOLUTION ANOTHER 

CAMPAIGNING EXPEDITION IN MEN's CLOTHES 

ELATION IN PARIS OVER FRENCH VICTORIES — WHILE 
THE ALLIES ARE MARCHING UPON THE CAPITAL. 

My next journey took me to Styria. At Gratz I went 
to see Louis Bonaparte, the former king of Holland. I 
felt that I had some claim to being well received by this 
ill-treated sovereign. I had been honoured with the 
friendship of his favourite sister, and I was an Italian 
naturalized in Holland. That country had for him the 
sweetest memories of his life. He could not speak of it 
without emotion. To the pleasure it gave the ex-king 
to talk about Holland I was no doubt indebted for much 
of the extreme kindness he showered upon me during my 
sojourn in Gratz, aside from the open-handed hospi- 
tality which he was so fond of dispensing to all strangers. 
Louis Bonaparte was much beloved at Gratz, where he 
led the life of a well-to-do middle-class citizen. His 

159 



i6o MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

features had a gentle expression. His face, which was 
still young, bore the imprint of the sorrows and cares he 
had gone through and betrayed the profound melancholy 
of his character. 

In my first interview with the King of Holland I began 
with French and then spoke in Dutch. The turn of the 
conversation led us to talk in Italian, the natural language 
of us both. This facility of intercourse in several tongues 
engendered a mutual feeling of ease. Louis put aside 
his shyness, while I felt more at home in his presence. 
The Count de St. Leu (which was the name he went by 
in Gratz) was perhaps never more frankly affable. I, 
for my part, did my best to interest and entertain him. 
He gave me his novel "Marie" to read, which he had 
recently had printed, in two volumes, to the extent 
of a small number of copies. The merits of his verse are 
open to discussion. But besides writing poetry he did a 
great deal of good, which was his great title to admiration. 
His literary labours absorbed him too much to allow him 
to brood over his short-lived monarchical career. He 
was really a bard grafted on a burgomaster. I know 
not whether the King of Holland made many conquests 
among the fem.ale sex, but it was impossible not to 
observe the traces, in his manner and his face, of an un- 
happy love. ]\Iyself quite disinterested touching the 
question of love, I can say that I have seen him in a 
gallant and even tender mood. For my stay at Gratz 
happened to coincide with that of a handsome young 
person calling herself Mme. Pascal, an accomplished per- 
former upon the harp. None of the heroines of this 
poet-king inspired him with more verse, nor inspired 
him with better. 

Louis was a very charitable man. There is scarcely 
in all Styria a religious or public institution or a poor 
family which does not remember his benefactions. Hav- 
ing voluntarily resigned a throne, his resources were never- 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY i6i 

theless magnificent. The day when Austria broke her 
alliance with Napoleon in so faithless a manner, Louis 
renounced a home that he would not occupy under his 
brother's enemy. He was universally regretted in 
Styria. 

I reached Paris again in November, 1813, and resumed 
an apartment I had formerly inhabited in the Rue Bergere. 
No later than the day after my arrival I began to renew 
interrupted relations of friendship. Among my ac- 
quaintances were numerous civil officials of high station 
and military officers in the upper grades. Several had 
disappeared from the scene or fallen on the field of battle. 

An officer of the young guard handed me some letters 
which had come for me during the year. My friends had 
supposed that the calamitous Russian expedition had 
made a stay-at-home of me, and that I could not tear 
myself away from Paris. The letters were of old date, 
but they spoke of Ney. Was it not enough for me to 
have the past become the present ? After his feats at 
Lutzen, Praelitz, and Weissenfels, the marshal had 
profited by an armistice to nurse a wound inflicted on 
him at Leipsic. 

From the same officer I learnt of the death of my poor 
friend Nidia, my valorous sister-in-arms, who died like a 
man at the crossing of the Elbe at Torgau. I shall never 
forget her obscure heroism, imsung on the page of history. 
The officer told me, too, how a young English girl of noble 
birth, Fanny by name, had taken it into her head to 
join our colours in the war of 18 13 in order to please 
Napoleon. She had the emperor's enemies to fight 
and her virtue's as well, for she was remarkably pretty. 
Her case being brought to the emperor's notice, he gave 
her an audience of several minutes, before witnesses, 
after the battle of Dresden, speaking very kindly to her 
and telling her she must leave the army, which the yoimg 
enthusiast did forthwith, happy to have attracted the 



i62 MEMOIRS OP A CONTEMPORARY 

great man's attention. I can think of no reason why 
she should be blamed. 

I was not hoping to see Ney as yet, but chance came to 
my assistance. I met him the morning after I had paid a 
long visit to Regnault. He was driving down the Champs 
Elysees. He saw me first, and his bow told me that he 
was not harbouring untoward recollections of our last 
meeting. A ray of pleasure flitted across his face, and 
he ordered his carriage to stop. He got out, and we 
talked under the leafless trees of the avenue. His 
countenance was grave and careworn, and lighted up 
only when I spoke of his children, which were his dearest 
treasure, his chiefest joy. He even dwelt upon the state- 
ment that it would delight him to show them to me 
and acquaint me with them. Ney did not love me. 
On the other hand, he entertained a deep passion 
for his noble wife. In his friendly confidences there 
was a charm and naturalness which moved me in- 
tensely. With touching simplicity he mixed up the 
names of his old father, his wife and his children with 
his victories. 

Getting back to his hearty military tone he said : 

" Since we have met, let us have a bachelor's breakfast 
together ! Take a carriage and drive to the Barriere 
Blanche. Wait for me there ; I shall be with you in half 
an hour." 

We met, accordingly, at the appointed place. He 
had left his cabriolet at a corner, and I was not obliged 
to wait long. But while standing sentinel I had looked 
about in vain for a suitable place to breakfast at with a 
marshal of the empire. Here we were then striding gaily 
along, jumping ditches, full of fun, like schoolboys out 
for a holiday. We reached the Bois de Boulogne road, 
that was then studded with small taverns, one of which 
we singled out and entered. The breakfast was like a 
veritable meal in camp. Ney kept in good spirits in 




FOUCHE, DUKE D'OTRANTO 

(Engraved by Wolff after Girardefs Drawing 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 163 

these rude surroundings. Three hours flew by in Hvely 
interchange of talk, without any reserve whatever either 
on his side or on mine, and with all the effusion of a 
sincere attachment. I told him what I had heard from 
Regnault the day before about the intrigues of the Bour- 
bons, and mentioned the Count de Provence's mani- 
festoes to the army. 

'"Yes," said Ney, "some were sent to me. There is a 
lot of paper wasted in the army. It would be better to 
use it for cartridges. This advertising of opinions has 
no effect upon the soldiers, nor do we officers take 
all these proclamations seriously. But the emperor 
attaches great importance to them, and the government 
foolishly takes notice of them. Fouche is said to be 
the instigator of these intrigues. Had the emperor, 
instead of sending him to Illyria, had him shot, he would 
have been taking a wise precaution. Many of those 
whom he thinks he has made friends of, like Fouche, and 
Talleyrand, and others, are betraying him. He will see ! 
He will see ! Fortunately the sound of cannon frightens 
the birds of prey. While the emperor has a soldier 
and a cannon left he may feel safe. " 

Then, giving full vent to his frankness. Marshal 
Ney gave me a sketch of the position Napoleon found 
himself in upon returning to the Tuileries after the battle 
of Leipsic. Ney thus concluded his harangue : 

" His army was all gone, but he foiind another waiting 
for him — one of courtiers, A lot of use they were, all 
those wind-bags of the Senate, the Council of State 
and the Assembly ! All those people could do was to 
flatter, which had been their tradition for ten years. And 
the emperor listened to that place-hunting gang ! He 
was too good hearted, too easily persuaded, too credulous. 
It needs none of these gilded menials for sabring the 
Prussians ! Napoleon ought to have clung only to the 
people, they were his real strength, and to the soldiers — 
his real friends. " 



i64 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

I did my utmost to correct Ney's views, but my attempts 
were vain. I saw plainly that he was not satisfied 
with the emperor's actions. He was firmly convinced 
that Napoleon ought to have made a treaty of peace 
at Dresden, arranged his affairs differently, and re- 
mained an ally of Austria. 

The year 1814 opened with sad forebodings. The last 
days of December, 18 13, had witnessed an accimiulation 
of bad news, the loosening of the ties of loyalty, the 
irritation and impatience of every one attached to the 
emperor's fortunes. 

The King of Naples had lately signed an armistice 
with England and an alliance with Austria, which was 
not only a piece of monstrous ingratitude, but shocking 
bad policy in itself. I felt humiliated and grieved upon 
learning of it. I thought of the Court of Naples, of the 
Court of Florence, of the Grand Duchess Elisa, who had 
been so kind to me, and who now must be suffering 
intensely at the wretched conduct of her sister Caroline. 
It occurred to me to go for an answer to a letter with 
which the grand duchess had intrusted me for " Madame 
Mere," as Napoleon's mother, Lastitia Bonaparte, was 
called. She was the only person belonging to the em- 
peror's family who had always kept to plain manners. 
I went to see her in the Rue de Lille. I was introduced 
by one of her two chamberlains, whose manners, which 
savoured of the old nobility, might in a less conscientious 
official have been mistaken for a satirical offset to the 
somewhat plebeian ways of the emperor's mother. 

Good old Mme. Lsetitia had accepted royalty as a 
sinecure. She was a queen without pride or pomp. I 
found her seated at a table on which were twenty or 
thirty small baskets and various pieces of beadwork. 
I presented my letter. 

"Thank you," she remarked, as she took it from me, 
"I'll see what it's about. Do you know how to make 
things of this kind?" 




LETITIA BONAPARTE. MOTHER OF NAPOLEON 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 165 

"No, Madam." 

"Well, — nor do I, I buy them from poor women. 
There are lots of those left, although my son has done a 
great deal for them, and then ladies get them from me. " 

"I can easily believe that anyone would be flattered 
to receive a gift from Mme. Mere. " 

" A gift ? A gift did you say ? What can you be think- 
ing of ! I pay for them, and am paid back. I see, my 
dear, that you are not at all economical. As for me, I 
am not like my daughters; I don't play princess, as 
they do!" 

I retired according to proper forms of etiquette, and 
in backing out of the room my foot caught in my long 
dress. If I had been less agile, I should certainly have 
had a tumble. Mme. M^re on this occasion showed that 
she had preserved all her natural kindness and simplicity. 

"Oh, my dear!" she exclaimed, "go out in a sensible 
way ! You nearly hurt yourself trying to be so polite !" 

Mme. M^re must have been beautiful in her youth. 
Her features were strikingly regular, and her face irra- 
diated a sweet disposition. 

The year 18 14, as I have said, opened under dark aus- 
pices. Trade was languishing in Paris. Many of the shops 
were closed, and a great part of the usual business was at 
a standstill. None but the purveyors of food — ^bakers, 
butchers and grocers — kept open. The only tradesmen 
to benefit by New Year's day were the confectioners 
and vendors of sweetmeats. Ever since the entry of 
the allies into France stocks had been declining in value. 
Government bonds had fallen from eighty-seven francs 
to fifty. Shares of the Bank of France, worth fourteen 
hundred francs in October, 1813, were being offered at 
seven hundred during the first fortnight of the following 
January. Everybody was trying to sell out their securi- 
ties. The banks imposed a discount of one and one- 
half per cent, when exchanging silver for bank notes, and 



1 66 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

five per cent, if they gave gold for them. The number 
of failtires increased day by day. 

Society, the middle classes, and the financial world were 
openly hostile to the emperor. In drawing-rooms and 
eating-houses, at the Stock Exchange and the theatres, 
in all places where people met and exchanged ideas, the 
gossips and slanderers were busy. All manner of rumours 
were current, most of them false. In spite of the police, 
royalist manifestoes and seditious placards were dis- 
played, almost with impim.ity. One caricature showed 
a Cossack handing the tsar's visiting card to Napoleon, 
who was in a mortal fright. Another represented the 
Vendome column on the top of which stood Napoleon 
in the garb of a Roman emperor, with the inscription 
" Pass on quickly, he may fall at any moment. " 

But if the nobility and the middle classes were hostile 
to Napoleon, he had on his side the workingmen and the 
peasantry. Neither the imiversal distress nor the roy- 
alist demonstrations, nor the increase of the taxes, nor 
the agitation against the tax gatherers, nor insinuations, 
nor alarming reports could make these people swerve. 
In some parts of the country there were uprisings 
among the peasantry to the cry of *' Down with 
vested rights! Long live the emperor!" The fact 
was that in the eyes of the poor and humble 
Napoleon was the symbol of the French Revolu- 
tion. Devotion to the principles of liberty and equality 
helped men to endure privation. They feared that a 
change to a new order of things would be accompanied 
by the re-establishment of privilege, abrogated since the 
Revolution. 

Napoleon was well aware of the existence of these 
different sentiments. Going out one morning I was 
astonished at hearing a street organ play a tune which 
I had not heard for years, a tune for some time prohibited. 
It was the " MarseillaJse, " and it was being played by the 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 167 

emperor's orders, as Regnault informed me that very- 
same day. I heard this war hymn several times in the 
pubHc thoroughfares. It seemed to say that the moment 
had once more come for great deeds. 

In the immortal campaign in France, which with the 
Italian campaign is regarded as Napoleon's military- 
masterpiece. Marshal Ney had no fixed command. He 
was generally with the emperor, who had thought of him 
as being the right man to stir up the people of Lorraine, 
and lead them against the rear of the enemy. The 
burning patriotism of the frontier population, their love 
of bearing arms, and their admiration for Marshal Ney 
would — if he had been given command over them — 
have resulted in the infliction of serious damage upon 
the invaders. 

The advice of Regnault de Saint- Jean-d'Angely 
and the categorical wish of Ney notwithstanding, in 
the beginning of February I made a short excursion, in 
my men's clothes, to the scene of the conflict. Occasion- 
ally mingling with our troops I was exposed to real 
dangers. At Chateau-Thierry the inhabitants of the town 
joined with the soldiers in chasing away the enemy, who 
had misbehaved grievously in every house they visited. 
The citizens of Chateau-Thierry organized into a volunteer 
corps that fought with extraordinary skill and courage. 
I remember taking a meal with some peasants in the 
district who, though ruined by the war, had remained 
invincibly loyal to Napoleon. 

Ney became apprized of my presence in the army. 
He sent me a message that I must return to Paris without 
delay if I did not want to be taken back by force — 
between two soldiers. I was worn out into the bargain, 
I had had my fill of camp accommodation, and the 
weather was abominable. I had been obliged to ride 
across country and through filthy bogs. My horse 
was limping. So I started back to Paris. At la 



1 68 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

Ferte I met a peasant leading two horses. I asked 
him if he would sell one. He assented, offering 
me the animal for sixty francs. It was worth 
twenty times that amount. He helped me to saddle my 
new steed, the while vaunting its points. Then, with a 
sudden look at me, he said : 

"But, Sir, you are a woman !" 

" Yes, I am a woman. But I have been under fire, and 
am afraid of nothing and nobody !" 

This speech seemed to make an impression on the 
man. He accompanied me for some distance, and only 
left me after putting me on a good road. At Meaux I 
hired a conveyance. On the i6th of February I was in 
Paris again. 

I found the capital changed once more. To the 
former restlessness and alarm confidence had succeeded. 
The news of the victories at Champaubert, Montmirail, 
Chateau-Thierry, followed by other bulletins of like 
tenor, had roused the lower and middle classes to an 
inconceivable state of exaltation. Everyone thought 
peace was at hand. Napoleon's genius, it was said, 
had forced the hand of success. 

Thus the remainder of February and the first of ]\Iarch 
went by. The city was ready to plunge into amuse- 
ments. The carnival was extremely gay. There were 
crowds on the boulevards to see the processions of mas- 
quers, who were joyfully applauded. There was danc- 
ing everywhere ; at the opera, where the balls were more 
brilliant than ever, at Vauxhall, at the Tarare, at the 
Rue Saint-Honor^ circus. The Theatre Frangais, the 
Ambigu, the Vaudeville, the Gaite, the Varieties, all the 
principal theatres were filled every night.' Topical 
pieces were given. Many of the spectators came in the 
uniform of the national guard. And then there were 
military reviews and parades. On the 27th of February, 
which was a Sunday, I witnessed an imposing ceremony 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 169 

in the Cour du Carrousel. Empress Marie-Louise, the 
King of Rome by her side, reviewed the garrison of Paris, 
detachments of the imperial guard, the line, and the 
national guard. Hereupon, in the throne room, and 
surrounded by the ministers and great officers of state, 
she received the standards of the enemy — ^Austrian, 
Prussian and Russian — captured since the beginning 
of the campaign, and destined to be hung in the national 
home for old soldiers, the " Invalides. " 

But this fictitious and illusive security was not suf- 
ficient to cause a revival of trade, although it found 
an echo in the stock market. Government bonds, 
which by the last of January had fallen to forty-seven 
francs, went up ten points in one month on the strength 
of the prospect of peace, the emperor's victories, the 
arrival of the Duke of Vicenza at Chatillon, the report 
of an armistice, Blucher's retreat, and so on. For a 
few days it was even noised about that the allies were 
about to evacuate the country. Alas ! it was all vain 
deception ! 

Meanwhile peace negotiations were proceeding at 
Chatillon between the Duke of Vicenza (on behalf of the 
emperor) and the plenipotentiaries of the allies. 

The struggle continued. Ney fought several battles 
with varying success against the Austrians and Russians. 
But at last Napoleon was compelled to recognize the 
futility of attacking the tremendous army of the allies 
in front. He, therefore, concluded it would be best to 
make an onslaught upon their rear at Saint-Dizier. The 
enemy, however, marched on toward Paris. Napoleon 
hastened back by way of Troyes and Sens, hoping that 
if the capital made a desperate resistance he might 
reach it in time to rescue it. But he arrived too late. 



CHAPTER XIV 

THE CAPITAL IN DANGER — MARIE-LOUISE AND THE KING 

OP ROME LEAVE THE TUILERIES KING JOSEPH'S 

HOPEFUL PROCLAMATION — THE BATTLE OP PARIS 

MARSHAL MONCEY's GALLANT DEFENCE — CAPITULA- 
TION — "our GOOD FRIENDS THE ENEMIES" — NAPO- 
LEON SURROUNDED BY THE ALLIES AT FONTAINEBLEAU 

— HE ATTEMPTS SUICIDE SIGNS THE TREATY OF 

ABDICATION — FAREWELL TO HIS SOLDIERS IN THE 
COURTYARD AT FONTAINEBLEAU — IDA'S RESENTMENT 
AGAINST NEY FOR ADVISING THE ABDICATION. 

The most disastrous tidings reached Paris at the end 
of March. Marshals Mortier and Marmont had suffered a 
terrible defeat at la Fere-Champenoise, and were doub- 
ling back in haste upon the metropolis, with the army 
of the allies in hot pursuit. At the same time came 
the news of the almost total annihilation, near La Fere- 
Champenoise, of a division of "Marie-Louise" troops, 
belonging to the young national guard from the Isle-de- 
France and Normandy. Many of them were still ununi- 
formed, and fired their muskets in short jacket, wooden 
shoes, and soft broad-brimmed hat. They made a 
heroic fight, for a whole day, withstanding, as they grad- 
ually retreated over the seven-mile stretch of country, 
the attacks of twenty thousand Russian horsemen and 
the fire of a strong detachment of artillery. In the 
morning they had numbered four thousand, By the 
evening two thousand were killed, and five hundred 

171 



172 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

had escaped to the swamps, where they were safe from 
the enemy. Of the fifteen hundred who surrendered 
at night nearly all were woimded. 

Every day larger numbers of peasants arrived at the 
gates of Paris from the neighbouring districts, making 
their way into the city with their cattle and their house- 
hold goods loaded on carts. This was a sure sign that 
the allies were near. The unhappy creatures established 
themselves as well as they could in the suburbs. 

Full of the anxiety to which everyone was a prey, 
and apprehensive as to the fate of Ney and my friends, 
I often went to the general post-office for news. It was 
here that couriers and other travellers from the outside 
drew rein. I met various people of importance here, 
come from the same motives as mine, among them the 
Baron de Meneval, and M. de Bourrienne, whom the 
former had just then replaced as secretary to the em- 
peror. 

I witnessed, at eleven o'clock on the morning of March 
29th, the departure from the Tuileries of the empress- 
regent and her son the King of Rome. The mournful 
procession left the Tuileries by the Pont Royal gate. Ten 
heavy green Berlin coaches, with the imperial arms 
painted on the door panels, the coronation coach encased 
in a linen cover, a mass of carriages and baggage 
vans, and an escort of two battalions of infantry 
and a squadron of cavalry, all filed out past a group of 
silent, gloomy spectators, crossed the Place de la Con- 
corde, went up the Champs Elysees and into the Bois 
de Boulogne, and then took the road to Blois. 

The leave-taking was very touching. The officers of 
the national guard on duty at the palace came to beg the 
empress to stay, vowing to defend her to their last drop 
of blood. Queen Hortense, forgetting that Marie-Louise 
had taken her mother's place, urgently pressed the 
regent not to go. In accents of prophetic conviction she 
said: 




THE KING OF ROME (DUKE DE REICHSTADTj, 
NAPOLEON'S SON 

(Engraved by Dossehnann) 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 173 

"If you quit the Tuileries, you will never see them 
again." 

The little King of Rome showed the most strenuous 
unwillingness to leaving the palace. He obstinately 
refused, although usually so gentle, docile and obedient. 
The lamentations of the infant king were heartrending. 
He continued to repeat: 

"My father told me I must not go!" 

He had to be removed by force. The onlookers were 
all in tears. 

When the news of the departure of the empress and 
the King of Rome became public, vast crowds gathered 
in the streets. Everyone expressed astonishment and 
indignation at this flight, which seemed a confession 
that all hope was lost. A proclamation by King Joseph 
issued in the afternoon revived the popular spirit. The 
document was thus worded: 

"Citizens of Paris: A hostile column is advancing 
from the German frontier. The emperor is in pursuit 
at the head of a victorious army. The Council of 
Regency has seen to the safety of the empress and the 
King of Rome. I remain with you. Let us arm to de- 
fend the city. The emperor is marching to our aid. 
Second him by a short and vigorous resistance, and let us 
preserve the honour of the French name." 

The growling of cannon was heard from the direction 
of Bondy. The inhabitants of some of the small towns 
came fleeing into Paris, saying that the Cossacks were at 
their heels. The next day the fate of the capital was to be 
decided. 

I spent the whole of that day away from home, deeply 
stirred by the scenes I had witnessed, fearing greatly for 
the capital, knowing how inadequate were the prepara- 
tions for defence. During the emperor's absence, con- 
fusion had reigned in the government, especially in the 
war department. Management, organization, and 



174 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

munitions were lacking. The populace, however, were 
eager to fight. All night the general alarm had sounded. 
The students of the Alfort and Polytechnic schools, the 
cadets of the imperial guard, and numerous volunteers 
marched out to reinforce Marmont and Mortier, whose 
troops held the space between the Seine and the Mame, 
the battlefield of the morrow, Loopholed palisades had 
been erected at the gates. The national guard assembled 
in haste. They manned the western sections of the de- 
fence, having a battalion at BatignoUes, near Marshal 
Moncey's headquarters at the Barriere Clichy. They 
also guarded the approaches from Saint-Denis and 
Neuilly, 

Under these circumstances did the battle of Paris open. 
The defending army numbered fifty thousand men all 
told, of whom only fifteen thousand belonged to the 
regular army. They had at least a hundred and twenty 
thousand foes to meet. In spite of this huge disparity 
in numbers they offered heroic resistance for several hours. 
The cannonading began in the morning, inflicting severe 
losses upon the allies. The front of the battle extended 
along the line between the Rue de la Revolte, through 
five suburbs, to Romainville, where the enemy did their 
worst. The plateau at this place was an important 
military position, and was taken and retaken several 
times. At the Barriere de Clichy old Marshal Moncey, 
second in command of the Parisian national guard, 
his son Albert, who was at his side as his chief -of -staff ; 
patriotic authors and artists, such as Mauguin, Charlet, 
Horace Vemet and others — all these opposed the insults 
of the enemy with the most obstinate bravery. Only 
the sound of the parliamentary trumpet could check 
the valour of the heroic marshal, who up to the last 
moment ofi'ered a gallant defence that the people of Paris 
will never forget. The garrison was in hourly expecta- 
tion of Napoleon's arrival, the supreme hope of the in- 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 175 

vaded country. During the morning rumors to that 
effect were passed along the line of battle. Shouts of 
"Long live the emperor!" were heard. But, alas, the 
news was false. 

At noon King Joseph, who had watched the battle 
from the Montmartre hill, unmindful of his sacred duties 
of a prince, a soldier, and a Frenchman, sent word to 
Marshal Marmont to enter into negotiations with the 
enemy for the capitulation of Paris, which he feared to 
see given over to pillage. This, although not one of our 
positions was as yet lost, and the allies had at no single 
point penetrated into the city, which could have with- 
stood their attack for at least two days longer. 

The fact of the capitulation was public even before it 
had been given finality by the signatures of Marmont 
and the Russian plenipotentiaries. I had gone up to the 
Faubourg Saint-Martin to find out the news. The 
cannonading had ceased entirely, and the firing of small 
arms was restricted to the extreme left, in the region 
of the Barriere de I'Etoile. What was happening? 
Mingling in the crowd, I heard that the French troops had 
been ordered from their posts in the fighting line, and 
were sorrowfully marching down the outer boulevards. 
The allies were establishing themselves close to the city 
gates. Their regimental bands played lively tunes which 
were audible at a distance and which were interspersed 
with cheers. The sacrifice was consummated. 

I went home and wept bitter tears over our lost mili- 
tary honour, over the shame of the occupation of our 
capital by foreigners. The next day I remained shut up 
at home. I did not see the parade of the Russians, Aus- 
trians and Prussians from the Barriere Pantin through 
the Faubourg Saint-Martin to the Champs Ely sees, where 
the grand review took place. My friends told me that 
in the lower-class district the foreign soldiers were greeted 
with sullen silence, empty windows and closed shops. 



176 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

After passing the Porte Saint-Denis, some shouts were 
heard of " Long Hve the Emperor Alexander" and " Long 
Hve the allies !" The patriots protested by their silence. 
But in the aristocratic quarters these shouts became 
more frequent. There they were intermingled with 
other shouts, "Long live the king," and "Long live our 
good friends the enemies ! " These were the exclamations 
of the delirious royalists, who had joined the ranks of the 
allies, and were acclaiming their troops. Oh, shame ! 
Dining the march past some fine ladies belonging to 
the Faubourg Saint-Germain, among them Talleyrand's 
niece, the Coimtess Diana de Perigord, mounted on the 
croups of the horses of the staff officers and the tsar's 
Cossacks, so as to see and applaud better. After the 
review, the Emperor Alexander repaired to the Prince 
de Talleyrand's palace, in the Rue Saint-Florentine, 
where apartments had been reserved for him. There 
were the intrigues of the royalists hatched out; there 
was the fall of the empire plotted, and there did it 
ripen to fruition. 

The emperor, meanwhile, was only four miles from 
his capital. He was rushing toward it with the full 
speed of his post horses, when he met a regiment of 
cavalry moving out in virtue of the armistice. Napoleon 
at first wanted to go on, to proceed to the Tuileries, 
declare the armistice void, resume command of the 
army, begin the fight over again, and so on. But he 
finally decided to make for Fontainebleau, where he 
arrived on the morning of March 31st at the same hour 
at which the allies were entering Paris. 

On the 14th of April The Moniteur published the formal 
declarations of allegiance — first to the provisional gov- 
ernment and then to Louis XVI IL — of Marshals Auger- 
eau, Oudinot, Kellermann and Lefebvre, and of a quan- 
tity of generals. In revolutionary times human baseness 
seems to descend several degrees below its usual level. 




' /"v///r-si^i«^is^' 




JOSEPH BONAPARTE, KING OF SPAIN 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 177 

The soldiers did not so readily assent to the new order 
of things. When Napoleon's abdication was read out 
to the troops at Fontainebleau, it provoked an outburst 
of wrath and indignation resulting in a demonstration 
which I, having in the meantime gone to Fontainebleau, 
happened to see. One night in April the soldiers of 
both the old and the yoimg guard broke into mutiny, 
poured out from their barracks in arms, rioted about 
the town, and started for the castle with cries of "Long 
live the emperor ! Down with the traitors ! To* Paris ! " 
The officers had all they could do to make them return 
to their quarters. 

The allies were losing no time. While the negotiations 
were in progress at Paris the foreign troops had closed in. 
The vicinity of Fontainebleau was occupied by them. 
The Russians stretched along the right bank of the 
Seine, and the Austrians had taken up a position between 
Essonnes and Paris. Other forces barred the roads to 
Chartres and Orleans. The French army was surroimded 
by a vast net, whose meshes were daily being drawn 
tighter. At any given moment a himdred and fifty 
thousand men were ready to fall upon the small contin- 
gent that still guarded Napoleon. These were days of 
great tribulation. At Fontainebleau I was lodged in the 
castle itself; unobserved owing to the stir and comfusion, 
in profound grief over the fall of everything that had for 
so many years been inexpressibly dear to me; taking 
part with broken spirit in the funeral of the empire I had 
known so glorious and so mighty! On the nth of 
April the negotiations were completed at Paris. The 
emperor's plenipotentiaries had obtained an agreement 
that the allied troops shottld cease their advance upon 
Fontainebleau. The pecuniary arrangements relative 
to Napoleon and his family were settled. Despite the 
efforts of the French commissioners, who wished Napoleon 
to be sent to Saint Helena, or at the very least to Corfu 



178 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

or Corsica, the will of the Emperor Alexander prevailed, 
and the principality of Elba was bestowed upon Napoleon, 
to be held by him for the rest of his life, as sovereign and 
proprietor. To make this treaty valid nothing more 
was requisite than the emperor's signature. 

At the supreme moment Napoleon, who until then had 
endured with apparently stoical resignation the blows 
that were smiting him and the collapse of his imperial 
power, Napoleon, who had always shown himself su- 
perior to the frowns of misfortune, now gave way to 
utter despair. After interviewing Caulaincourt and 
Macdonald upon their return from Paris, on the afternoon 
of April the 12th, weakness got the better of this 
remarkable man's usual strength of soul. He wanted 
to end his life. The memory of that awful night is 
ineffaceably engraved in my mind. 

I had retired very late, and had thrown myself upon a 
loimge with all my clothes on. All was still in the castle. 
I was suddenly aroused by unwonted noises. Lights were 
being carried to and fro, and servants were bustling 
about. It was then three o'clock in the morning. 
Someone rode out of the courtyard at a rapid trot. It 
was one of the emperor's surgeons. I was seized with 
mortal terror. I rushed to the emperor's apartments, 
under the pretext of wishing to speak to one of his ser- 
vants, saw M. de Turenne, the master of the wardrobe, 
in a strange state of excitement and heard the word 
"poisoned" distinctly repeated twice. Luckily General 
Bertrand made his appearance. His tranquil manner 
was the best guarantee that no fears need be entertained 
for the emperor's life. 

I was informed that the evening before Napoleon had 
sent for his doctor, Ivan, and by force of threats had 
obliged him to say what dose of opium would kill a man. 
Napoleon always had some of the drug in a small medi- 
cine case. He put the amount indicated into a cup of 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 179 

tea. But it proved to be an overdose. He vomited, 
and so threw up the poison he had swallowed. Then he 
suffered from convulsions all through the night. But 
when morning came he was saved. 

At nine o'clock, by which time the rumours were 
spreading through the ranks of the grenadiers of his 
guard, I began to fear an insurrection. The soldiers 
were accusing the allies of poisoning the emperor, and 
wanted to carry him off, and keep him in their midst, 
where he would be safe from danger. 

Reawakened to his sense of moral greatness by the 
failure of his attempt upon his own life. Napoleon re- 
solved to submit to his fate, since, forsaken by all, he 
could not even find refuge in death. Thus he at last 
consented to ratify the engagements made in his name. 
He signed the treaty at Fontainebleau, which had been 
concluded at Paris on the nth of April, but not without 
showing a glimpse of the conflicts warring within his 
proud soul. He said to Caulaincourt as he handed the 
the signed treaty to him : 

"The money clauses humiliate me. I am only a sol- 
dier. I can live on a louis a day. Tell the allied 
sovereigns, be sure to tell them in my name, Caulain- 
court, that I am treating with a victorious enemy, not 
with a provisional government in which I see nothing 
but a committee of malcontents and traitors!" 

In all the successive defections which had so quickly 
thinned the ranks of the courtiers who had once served 
Napoleon so eagerly, honour and fidelity had not deserted 
the army at large. Officers and soldiers repined at not 
having been allowed to spill their last drop of blood in 
delivering their emperor and driving the strangers out 
of the country. All the old veterans, whose faces had 
been browned by the suns of Egypt or their limbs 
frozen in the wintry North, in the hour of darkness re- 
mained true to the chief who had so often led them 



i8o MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

to victory. In accordance with the treaty four hundred 
of his soldiers were to be permitted to accompany Napo- 
leon. Nevertheless, his whole guard wanted to go with 
him into exile. They vied with each other in urging 
seniority and length of service and quantity of stripes 
as qualifications entitling them to share with their 
emperor the sojourn and the bread of banishment. 
"Good fellows! good fellows!" said the emperor with 
emotion. "Why cannot I take them all?" 

It was to these picked men of the nation, to these truly 
French hearts, that the fallen monarch elected to bid his 
last farewell. The 20th of April had been fixed as the date 
of his departure. The imperial guard was drawn up in 
the courtyard of the castle. The painter's art has pre- 
served the memorable scene to all generations. It has 
faithfully represented the actors. But what brush could 
ever depict the dull despair speaking from the faces of 
those old comrades in glory? Their eyes were lowered 
to the ground. The emperor was pale. His voice 
was uncertain. When, in the course of his address 
he said: "Some of my generals have failed in their 
duty," a murmur ran through the whole of the ranks. 
A quick glance from Napoleon to General Petit and the 
first row of his guard convinced me how well he had 
appreciated the spontaneous tremor of those devoted 
men, upon which a deadly silence had followed. When 
Napoleon embraced General Petit it was a sacred 
moment, if I may say so. The grenadiers presented 
arms with tears in their eyes. The standard-bearer, 
who was close to the emperor, lost countenance altogether 
and burst into sobs. 

General Bertrand got into a carriage with Napoleon. 
A small escort followed; four commissioners belonging 
to the allied powers, a Russian, an Austrian, an English- 
man and a Prussian, accompanied the ex-emperor. Their 
mission was to protect Napoleon on his passage through 




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MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 



I5l 



the foreign lines, against the overheated passions of the 
royahst agents, and against the criminal designs 
of certain members of the government originating 
from the southern provinces of France. The emperor's 
life was seriously threatened and the journey was not 
absolved without dangerous happenings. 

Two hours after his departure from Fontainebleau, 
I was in a carriage on my way to Paris. 

At the city limits I was obliged to alight and show my 
passport, which I always kept in good order, in my 
pocketbook. 

"Where do you come from?" 

** Fontainebleau. ' ' 

"Were you attached to Napoleon?" 

"By inclination, not by service." 

After a few moments' discussion I was allowed to pass 
on. I had my slender luggage deposited at the Hotel 
du Buloi. 

My heart was oppressed. Although an eyewitness of 
the great events of Fontainebleau, and having myself seen 
the eagle 's fall, yet I could scarcely realize the actuality of 
the great catastrophe. The sight of Paris was painful to 
me. I went about everywhere, but could find consolation 
nowhere. I had not yet seen Marshal Ney. A presenti- 
ment of some sort about him disquieted me. I felt 
an imperative desire to ask him face to face what he had 
said to the emperor at their last interview, which had been 
so variously commented upon. At last, after I had 
been back in Paris several days, we met. 

It was a singular encounter. We were both embar- 
rassed. I had been told the day before that not only 
had Ney, like the other marshals, kept all his titles, so 
gloriously won, but that he had been promised more. To 
all appearances he seemed to be firmly established in 
the good graces of his new masters. That this was really 
the case I thought scarcely credible. In spite of all 
the diffidence I felt, however, and though I wished the 



i82 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

best terms to prevail between us, I bluntly asked him 
whether it was true that he had advised the emperor 
to abdicate. 

"Yes," he replied, "I was compelled to do so." 

"What, Ney, did you tell Napoleon such bitter truths, 
when his misfortune would have justified their being 
softened?" 

"Truths they were, yes; but I spoke no bitter words. 
I only expressed my opinion with all the frankness which 
is natural to my character. Yes, I advised him to 
abdicate. Before the emperor there was France to be 
considered, I have explained my views to you on that 
subject many a time. The men who govern are nothing 
to me. I care only for my country !" 

He then left me. Our conversation had been frigid 
and constrained. The greatest charm of our intimacy, 
our sympathetic enthusiasm in a common cause, was 
gone. Our friendship thus to some degree lacked 
the fuel which had kept it warm. 



CHAPTER XV 

LAZARE CARNOT, A REAL REPUBLICAN — AND AN UPRIGHT 

MAN AND A PATRIOTIC CITIZEN HE COMPARES 

NAPOLEON WITH C^SAR AND WASHINGTON — A POLITI- 
CAL BREAKFAST PARTY — AT WHICH THE "CONTEM- 
PORARY" IS GIVEN A SECRET MISSION — HER JOURNEY 

TO ELBA REMINISCENCES, BY THE WAY, OF NAPO- 

LEON'S journey THITHER — HOW HE ESCAPED HANG- 
ING THE ex-emperor's ACTIVITY AS A LANDLORD — 

HE TELLS THE AUTHORESS OF HIS DREAM OF A MEDI- 
TERRANEAN KINGDOM — HIS STATUS IN EXILE AS A 
SOVEREIGN — OFFICIALS OF HIS COURT IN ELBA. 

I HAVE not SO far spoken of Carnot in my memoirs, 
because, although I had known him a long time, I could 
not before arriving at a mature age fully appreciate such 
an unusual character as his. In the whirlwind of my youth, 
successes and follies, I had little inclination to pause 
before that stem figure. He excluded himself from 
frivolous, ostentatious society, and did not wish to see the 
Republic in fine clothes. 

The French Cato, as he was called, was far from pre- 
possessing. He had a long, solemn, hairless face. But it 
was he who, silently, from the seclusion of his study 
in the department of public safety, had organized the 
military forces of France, and had hurled at Europe 
the fourteen armies of the Convention that had enabled 
us to beat the whole continent. This was why I looked 

183 



i84 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

upon Carnot with the curiosity which an antique medal 
arouses, representing some illustrious personage. 

Carnot, once an engineer officer, had disciplined the 
early activity of his mind with the study of the exact 
sciences. Solitude, meditation, and intellectual specula- 
tion naturally set him in quest of new ideas. The Re- 
public was a problem he had long been pondering, and 
which he thought to have solved. He reached the point of 
enthusiasm by the road of deep reflection; he reduced 
society to an equation, and when certain of his con- 
clusions became all ardour on the subject. With most 
men reason tempers the transports of an impetuous spirit. 
In Carnot's case reason was in a manner the secret fire 
which kept his blood aglow. His conduct during the 
Revolution has been the substance of much comment. I 
do not pretend to judge either that conduct or its motives. 
Himself explained it in saying "I signed without read- 
ing." But I am inwardly convinced that Carnot did 
nothing but what was strictly righteous in his own sight. 
Good and simple in heart, he never served any personal 
interests; with him the individual always disappeared 
in the citizen. He was of a grave cast of mind, by nature 
inimical to futile gaiety and amusements, but full of kind 
indulgence for the weaknesses of his friends. By a 
singular anomaly, this man, whom one would have 
believed quite absorbed in scientific lore, and whose 
political theories were all based upon abstract ideas, also 
busied himself with literature. This bold republican 
wrote little poems. So that the Brutus of the forum 
was something of a Deshoulieres at home. 

My intercourse with Carnot was more than once inter- 
rupted, but was as often renewed through his kind indul- 
gence. After my return from Italy I learnt through 
some officers how generously Carnot had offered the use 
of his abilities and his sword to the unfortunate Napo- 
leon, in the time of his cotmtry's distress, immolating the 



>^ 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 185 

republican pride from which he had never swerved while 
the imperial star was in the ascendant. Turning from 
the spectacle of general ingratitude and vileness, I felt 
that my heart would be solaced by a visit to the defender 
of Antwerp and stricken France. Carnot seemed sensible 
to my regard, which I pushed so far as to substitute 
"Citizen" for "Sir," in conversation, which brought 
back memories of his younger days to him. He was 
good enough to enquire about my situation, and asked 
how I had fared since our last interview, dating several 
years back. I told him that the loss of my illusions had 
made me take to travel. 

''Well, as for myself," said Carnot hereupon, "to seek 
relief from my political disappointments I took refuge 
in solitude. In quiet retreat among my books I was 
not carried away by the brilliant vagaries of a despot 
who might have been incomparable, like Washington, j 
but who preferred to be only great, like Caesar. Let us ' 
not speak ill of him, however ; he is fallen. There is no 
more danger to be feared from that side. If I offered 
my services to Napoleon, it was because I could not bear 
the thought of being idle when my coimtry was in 
trouble." 

We then talked of the past and the future. Our com- 
mon reminiscences taking us back to the great Revolution- 
ary era, Carnot conferred the special favour upon me of 
reading aloud to me his own justification of his conduct 
during the Revolution. Everyone has read those en- 
grossing pages, which, by the emperor's orders and the 
activity of the minister of police, were distributed in 
profusion during the Hundred Days. Camot's pamphlet 
was for sale in the streets, piled up in small carts, like 
vegetables or fruit, and was obtainable from the abim- 
dant vendors for a very moderate sum. 

I was much flattered at the interest Carnot seemed 
to take in my opinion. If a woman has a few brains in 



i86 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

het head, and does not try to manifest her own impor- 
tance, it is astonish'iog — sometimes incredible — what will 
be confided to her by men of the highest order. I have 
been well acquainted, in my time, with many distinguished 
men. With all of them, Carnot excepted, I foimd that 
ambition or the pride of rank obscured the integrity 
of their views. Carnot, on the other hand, whether in 
private, or with the army, or in public debate, was 
always the same staunch republican, stiffnecked perhaps, 
but disinterested. Besides the pamphlet I have referred 
to, Carnot read me some of his verses. One of the poems 
was afterwards set to music by the composer Romagnesi. 

Carnot was aware that I was still in correspondence 
with the former secretary of Herault de Sechelles, Neil- 
lard, whom he held in high esteem, and who was at that 
time living in retirement in Provence. Fearing Camot's 
disapproval, I said nothing to him of a project to visit 
Elba which I had been revolving in my mind. I merely 
told him I intended to take a journey to Marseilles, 
Toulon, Digne, Draguinan, and perhaps a few other 
places. He asked me to come again before I left, saying 
he would have some letters ready for his friends in the 
south. I gladly promised to act as Carnot's messenger, 
and we parted very good friends. 

I had been nursing the idea of the pilgrimage to Elba 
with enthusiasm. But sometimes the execution of a 
resolve is deferred through trivial reasons. Money — 
— that sinew of war — and travelHng were becoming^ of 
some consideration to me. While by way of precaution 
I was trying to replenish my exchequer, I received from 
Regnault a pressing invitation to breakfast, including 
his request that I come early. According to my usual 
wont, I entered by the Rue de la Victoire pavilion, 
expecting to find myself in a small circle of intimates. 
To my surprise there was a large gathering entirely com- 
posed of men, the countess being absent from Paris. So 




CARXOT 

{Originally Published by Fume, Jouvet ct Cie., Pari'^ 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 187 

I was to take part in a veritable bachelors' breakfast. 
Perhaps not much attention would have been paid to me 
had not a relative of General Cavaignac insisted on talk- 
ing to me about Murat and EHsa, whom he knew I had 
been acquainted with. He rambled on about my cam- 
paigns forever, which among all these real soldiers was 
most embarrassing. The most boisterous among the 
guests, he whose language was the least diplomatic, 
was Charles de Labedoyere. He was to go back that 
same night to his regiment. He had come to Paris with- 
out leave of absence and without the knowledge of his 
commanding officer. It was on this occasion that our 
acquaintance grew into friendship as the outcome of the 
half-confidences that passed between us and the sym- 
pathies which we shared. 

General Cambac^res, the archchancellor's brother, also 
took part in the breakfast. He said very little. This 
was not so with the remainder of the guests, whose dar- 
ing observations upon politics surpassed anything I could 
have imagined. Six months had elapsed and already 
most of those who had abandoned Fontainebleau too 
precipitately, or had gleefully welcomed the emperor's 
abdication because of the opportimity it afforded for 
the essaying of other ideas, not only were now beginning 
to repent, but were making common cause with the 
people whose conservative love of the past was allied 
to definite hopes for the future. Regnault's breakfast 
party was dreadfully political. Between the courses all 
the dynasties of Europe were sliced up. Above all the 
other voices Labedoyere 's rang out like a clarion. Amid 
all the political vapouring I, however, suspected the 
likelihood of some direct inspiration from Napoleon, who 
was perhaps designing some plan to get back the power 
he had but recently signed away at Fontainebleau. 
Regnault, who knew very well that any attempt to elicit 
information from me about Ney would be futile, did not 



i88 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

once mention his name in the counting up of all the celeb- 
rities passed in review in the speculations of the company- 
relating to the new government. 

At last the guests departed, and I found myself alone 
with Regnault, Labedoyere and Cambaceres. They con- 
tinued the political debate, but — without openly com- 
mitting themselves — included hints plain enough to be 
understood by the Contemporary. I then perceived why 
I had been invited, and I showed that I comprehended 
what was required of me. Immediately the conversation 
was changed to other topics. General Cambaceres 
when he withdrew took leave of me with the air of appre- 
ciation one might display towards a person whom one 
wished to thank for a service to be rendered. Labe- 
doyere, too, evidently thought I was more deeply initiated 
in political secrets than I professed to be, or even really 
was. When the two had gone, Regnault told me pre- 
cisely what it was that he and his friends wanted me to 
do. I promised to perform the confidential mission 
entrusted to me with all the fidelity I was capable of. 
I would start without needless delay, I said, since the 
question of money, the only consideration that could 
have held me back, was resolved. 

Thus was my pilgrimage to Elba arranged. My trav- 
elling purse contained six thousand francs. In order 
to forestall inquiries to which my departure might per- 
haps have given rise, I spread the report that I intended 
to make a sojourn in the vicinity of Paris. Before 
getting into my carriage I wrote a letter to Regnault 
saying that on receipt of it I should already be on my 
way to Fontainebleau. 

I followed the same route as that taken by the emperor 
on his journey to the island of Elba. At various places 
at which I stopped the people with proud affection spoke 
of the emperor as having said so-and-so " here. " 

" It was here," a yoiing girl informed me at Briare, that 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 189 

the carriages were separated for the want of horses. The 
first carriage went on, but the emperor stayed behind 
until night. 

"No, you are mistaken, Toinette. The emperor left 
at noon. I know better than you because I saw him 
eating with two German or EngHsh blackguards," 
was the answer of an older woman. 

How difficult it must be to come at the exact truth 
of the great facts of history. The witnesses of a trivial 
occurrence cannot even agree on what happened if only a 
few months have passed since the event. 

At Nevers I was told how much Napoleon had seemed 
consoled by the ovations which had greeted him all along 
the road from Fontainebleau. 

"But it was not the same with the foreign commis- 
sioners," a fair patriotess remarked, with a malicious 
smile. "They were sworn at and hooted." 

At Villeneuve-sur-AUier the people said, with tears in 
their eyes : 

"Here the emperor was obliged to part from the last 
detachment of the faithful guard that was his escort. He 
refused the Cossacks and Germans who were offered, 
saying loudly: 

"I want no escort now'. My grenadiers were my 
friends; no one can fill their place." 

At Orange and at Avignon the passing carriages were 
saluted with cries of " Long live the king ! Down with 
Nicolas ! Long live the allies !" 

While the horses were being changed at the relay 
station of Orgon, a royalist riot exploded, which had 
been fomented by agents sent from Paris. In anticipa- 
tion of the ex-emperor's arrival, the country folk had 
hung up a mannikin on the lamppost at the very door of 
the inn, this dummy being intended to represent Napo- 
leon. The charming inhabitants of Orgon were fully 
disposed to replace the effigy with the reality. The 



iQo MEMOIRS OP A CONTEMPORARY 

whole furious village mob surrounded the carriages, 
bellowing the filthiest epithets at Napoleon in patois. 
If the emperor had got out, which the ferocious peasants 
— incited by the agents — tried to make him do, he would 
surely have been killed. Recognizing the peril of his 
situation, the commissioners speedily alighted from their 
carriages and placed themselves between the mob and the 
emperor who, with knitted brow, but otherwise calmly 
composed, watched the outrageous demonstrations 
against him. As soon as the postillions had finished har- 
nessing their animals they jumped into their saddles and 
started off at a gallop. Several volleys of stones were 
aimed by the miscreants at the vanishing imperial coach, 
which luckily escaped without serious damage. 

The emperor had embarked at the port of Saint-Raphen 
on the 29th of April, 1814, under escort of some Austrian 
soldiers. And there also I took ship for Elba, at the end of 
the month of November, in the same year. In order to 
obviate the suspicions that a disguise might have evoked, 
I had resumed female garments. After Orgon I had not 
stopped again before reaching le Luc, at which spot 
General Bertrand had presented to Princess Pauline 
the foreign commissioners accompanying her brother 
in his exit from his domains. Pauline was to join Napo- 
leon in Elba. So I quitted French territory at Saint- 
Raphen where, fifteen years before, Bonaparte had landed 
after the expedition to Egypt. I was obliged to wait 
until the next day, on account of stormy weather, 
and then, after a two days' sail, the island of Elba came 
in sight. 

It was not merely a desire to pay grateful homage 
to the unfortimate hero that took me to this island. 
The purpose of my voyage was another. But the secret 
is not mine, and I must therefore not disclose it. 

Upon disembarking in the evening, I was taken by a 
person who met me to a very secluded coimtry house. 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 191 

From this house, that had been selected for my quarters, 
was visible the tiny island of Pianosa, which was spoken 
of by Napoleon as his "last conquest." It had, in fact, 
since he had taken up his abode in Elba, ceased to be 
a camping ground for pirates. 

From the day of the emperor's arrival. Napoleon's 
activity and inventiveness were made apparent to the 
astonished population of Elba. Napoleon's influence 
impressed itself upon all his surroundings. Good roads 
were laid, new mines were opened, ground was cleared 
and planted, new edifices were erected, The sovereign's 
palace at Porto Longone was situated on a rock between the 
Falcon and Star forts, at the salient angle of the bastion. 
When he first came the palace consisted of two main build- 
ings, which served the higher engineer and artillery officers 
as lodgings. The emperor ordered these buildings to be 
joined by another. On the first floor of this was cstab- 
Hshed a magnificent ballroom, adjoined by Princess 
Pauline's apartments. The emperor occupied the ground 
floor of the palace, and his mother, who likewise had 
come to live on the island, resided in the town of Porto 
Ferraio. Near the palace were old tumble-down houses 
and mills. These, together with a large building long fallen 
into disuse but close to the imperial dwelling, were pulled 
down. Everything was razed to the level of the terrace 
made in front of the palace, which thus commanded 
a free view in every direction. 

My passport designated me as a Pole, and my servants 
wore the costume of that nation. The mystery of my 
arrival, the circumstances of my reception, a certain 
dignity of deportment learnt in society and by no means 
impaired through stage experience — it was this perhaps 
that set tongues wagging in the island. The report was 
spread that a woman and a young child, both dear to the 
emperor, had made their appearance. This fable threw 
a public glamour over me which disturbed my plan, and 



192 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

which compelled me to finish my mission as soon as 
possible. I spent but three days in Elba. 

Napoleon passed much of his time in visiting his 
miniature states, putting all his wonted ardour into 
that pursuit. He rode out on horseback every day. 
I waylaid him as he was nearing a high point of the island. 

"What!" he exclaimed, as though he had not been 
expecting me, " fama volat as far as Barataria?" 

"Where do you suppose fame would stop if she were 
flying after the Emperor Napoleon?" 

Such was my reply. I then asked the emperor to grant 
me a private audience. He assigned me the hour of two 
in the afternoon, at Saint-Martin, his country seat. 

"Be sure to come," he urged me. 

We rode on together to the top of the hill. The wide 
blue belt of the sea, encircling the island, lay shining at our 
feet as it were. Some frigates of war were cruising in 
the distance. 

"Behold my empire!" said Napoleon, with a scornful 
smile. 

"Why?" I answered, scanning the whole round of 
the horizon at a glance, "it is as large as the world! 
Over there is France, and over there is Italy, and is not 
Africa in that direction?'' 

" Africa ? Ah, Africa was the dream of my childhood ! 
I was in love with it when my mother used to tell me 
about King Theodore. I sometimes thought I would 
Uke to be King of the Mediterranean islands. What 
a beautiful dream ! I might have demolished the 
pirates, like Pompey; driven back the people of the 
Barbary states into the interior; crushed out the slave 
trade ; civilized Egypt ; pushed the Turks back into Asia ; 
given the Greeks a government and a country of their 
own ; maintained the balance between the marine powers 
of the world in humbling the pride of England ! But it 
was only a dream !" 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 193 

Then the emperor was silent, and gave himself up to 
meditation. 

The estate of Saint-Martin, where I was given audience 
by the emperor, had through him been acquired on Prin- 
cess Pauline Borghese's account. Upon it stood a little 
house, of pretty, picturesque aspect, in the middle of a 
spacious vineyard. Nearly every day, whatever the 
weather might be, Napoleon went walking about the 
estate. As a good landlord he did not disdain to super- 
vise the management of the place, had complete reports 
rendered him, and entered into their smallest details. 

He had had the house enlarged and furnished with 
simplicity and good taste. The walls, as they usually 
are in Italy, were painted with frescoes. Upon the walls 
of the dining-room the emperor had caused to be himg 
handsome pictures illustrating the Egyptian campaign, 
which made the room look as if it were part of a museum. 
It was here that Napoleon deigned to receive me the next 
day, and to thank me in gracious terms, worthy a sover- 
eign, for my personal devotion to him. 

His court at Elba was not numerous, it cotmted only 
about thirty persons, including natives. 

Napoleon being a reigning sovereign, acknowledged 
by all the powers, he had not resigned the privileges of 
royalty. Thus, in obedience to etiquette, the four chief 
notables of the coimtry were appointed chamberlains, 
while six young men from the best families of the island 
were attached to the emperor's person as orderly offi- 
cers. The service of honour was regulated as it had been 
in France. 

The day for receptions and audiences was Sunday, 
after mass. 

Cambronne, marshal of the camp, immortalized by 
valiant conduct and a famous speech at Waterloo, 
attracted but little attention among the visitors who 
flocked to Elba. He had a martial countenance, it is 



% 



194 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

true, but one which was not striking among a number 
of heroic faces, and which could not provoke especial 
comment or make an enduring impression on the memory. 

The same cannot be said of the marshal of the palace, 
General Bertrand, whose name resoimded in my ears 
on the shores of the Adriatic, in those Illyrian provinces 
over which he had been governor, and where he had left 
hearts full of esteem and gratitude. The expression of 
his face was rather gentle than grand, but it was 
easily seen that this very gentleness was the cover of a 
strong, stem soul. His bald forehead gave evidence 
of deep and serious thinking. Pensive and perhaps 
melancholy by nature, he was as wise as he was good. 

General Drouot's physiognomy much resembled Gen- 
eral Bertrand's. There was about him something 
reser^^ed, religious, mystical, which inevitably called 
to mind the sacred profession for which, it was said, 
he had been trained in his youth, but from which patriotic 
fervour, and circumstances as well, had claimed him for 
the vocation of arms. 

Upon quitting the island of Elba, my first notion was 
to land at Antibes, but the winds of heaven ordered 
otherwise. I set foot on the mainland at Marseilles. 



CHAPTER XVI 

Ida's friendship with general quesnel — his mys- 
terious ASSASSINATION — NAPOLEON SETS FOOT IN 
FRANCE AGAIN — NEY's INCONSISTENCY EXCUSED — HIS 
DEFECTION FROM THE ANTI-NAPOLEON PARTY — RE- 
JOICINGS AT LONS LE SAULNIER OVER THE EMPEROR'S 

RETURN NEY'S MEETING WITH NAPOLEON — THE 

MARSHAL EXPLAINS HIS CHANGE OF HEART — THE 
OVATION AT THE TUILERIES. 

In spite of a fair passage I felt more fatigued by this little 
maritime journey than I would have been by a month of 
marching in the field. I remained at the Hotel Beauveau, 
and investigated the state of public opinion. I found 
that at Marseilles, as everywhere else, thoughts of change 
were current. When I informed Regnault of this trend 
of mind upon my return to Paris, he rubbed his hands 
in a peculiar manner and said I was a prophetess. 

Early in February of the year 1815 I received a letter 
from the marshal. In the course of his epistle he said : 

" I propose to continue on my estate, but, my friend, I 
must urgently beg of you to observe prudence in your 
conduct." To this sentence he had added: "I do not 
expect to go back to Paris imtil I am summoned thither. " 

In replying, I thought it behooved me to record all the 
observations I had gathered during my journey to Elba. 
I remember his answer, which was very brief and categor- 
ical. I quote it: 

'* Whoever desires a change desires the ruin of France. 

19s 



196 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

Our sole want is peace. What matters it who governs? 
All that matters is France — her welfare and her dignity. 
Let us think of nothing but our country. " 

This self -same sentiment governed Ney's actions a few 
months later. But when he wrote me the above lines he 
believed, in all earnestness and sincerity, that Napoleon's 
return would signify a dreadful calamity. 

In my former campaigning days I had known a young 
officer who had strongly attracted me, in the unusual 
circumstances of our acquaintance, by his striking appear- 
ance and his clever gallantry. This officer I had favoured 
above a number whom I had merely counted as amiable 
men; his name was Quesnel. Through one of the for- 
tuitous happenings of those eventful times an intimacy 
begun in a ballroom at Paris had culminated on a battle- 
field. We had met in Italy, parted in Germany, and 
come together again in Poland. For a few years we 
had lost sight of each other, but those years and as many 
hundreds of miles which had separated us meant nothing 
at our fresh meeting; it was as if we had been together 
the day before. Only in the meantime Quesnel had 
become a general. When I first saw him he was a cap- 
tain, I had afterwards met him as a colonel, and upon 
my return to Paris after the abdication at Fontainebleau 
I greeted him as general of division. 

By the end of 1814, our renewed relations, maintained 
by frequent hours in one another's company and by 
mutual sympathies and sorrows, had however taken on 
a somewhat serious character. General Quesnel, a man 
of firm resolve and remarkable energy, was the soul of 
many gatherings that were rather political than 
social, though he had a capacity for reconciling these 
interests. I supposed him better initiated than myself 
in certain secrets whose general purport I knew more of 
than their exact content. Since at this time Ney was 
on his estate, and since my journey to Elba — of which 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 197 

he had expressed his disapproval — had resulted in the 
cooling of our communications, I had entire liberty in 
my already very independent manner of life. About 
the end of January or the beginning of February, 181 5, 
I was at breakfast one morning with Quesnel, in the Rue 
de Rivoli. He was troubled and moody, and very spar- 
ing with his ordinarily enthusiastic and hopeful remarks. 

"I am thinking of an audience, and it is causing me 
some anxiety," he confessed, 

"With whom?" 

"I am to have it with the Duke d'Angouleme." 

"Good heavens ! And are you too going to blaze one 
of those fierce proclamations at us full of 'tyrants' and 
'usurpers'?" 

" You seem to think you are talking to Augereau. You 
are mistaken, my dear friend. " 

I left him with dire presentiments in my breast. I 
was afterwards told by a friend of the general that he had 
seen him taking leave of a relative at the Carrousel gate 
at eleven o'clock on the night of the day I had breakfasted 
with him, and which day he was to have had a private 
interview with the duke. Quesnel's relative supposed 
he had gone to a place in the country near Paris — one of 
his favourite haunts. Inquiries were made if Quesnel 
had made his appearance there. I confided my appre- 
hensions to Regnault, who answered: 

" I have not seen Quesnel since his audience with the 
Duke d'Angouleme. But I am not surprised. He per- 
haps found himself in one of those delicate positions of 
which a man thinks he must bear the brunt himself." 

I next met a former aide-de-camp of General Lasalle. 
He imparted a rumour to me as to Quesnel's being 
drowned. At this terrible news I nearly fainted. 

"Poor Quesnel," the officer continued, "he may have 
been made a sacrifice of. His fearless tenacity was no 
secret. He knew too much, and was put out of the way. " 



198 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

The next day, while in a cafe near the Pont Royal, I 
observed a sudden rush of all the guests to the door. 

" There, " said one of them, " goes the cart with General 
Quesnel's body, who was drowned." 

"You mean," exclaimed a military man in civilian 
clothes, " whose throat was cut before he was pitched into 
the river!" 

After leaving the cafe I turned the corner of the Rue 
de Bourbon, and entered the arcade of the Boulain- 
villiers market. Here I was imexpectedly confronted by 
the officer in plain clothes who had spoken in the cafe. 
He assured me that there was no doubt of Quesnel's hav- 
ing been murdered. He explained that the dagger em- 
ployed had left traces of an intense struggle on the part 
of the victim and of the murderer's fierce persistency. 

I was day by day becoming more involved in the in- 
trigues brewing on behalf of Napoleon. Without ever 
asking the object of any of my missions, I fulfilled them 
all with the enthusiasm of a disinterested zeal. One 
morning Regnault handed me three letters, commission- 
ing me to deliver them to a man who would accost me with 
the question: "How is your uncle?" My instructions 
were to wait for the said individual in the cafe of the 
Feydeau arcade until eleven o'clock. The letters were 
to be surrendered upon the exhibition of a medal. I 
went to the appointed place at half past nine. I was 
addressed by a man in the words mentioned, and gave 
up the letters as I had been ordered. The emissary 
sent to meet me I knew quite well. He was an officer of 
hussars, and he spoke exultingly of the emperor and the 
general expectation of his return. When I rendered 
account of my mission to Regnault, he muttered with 
ill-dissembled anger: 

"These officers are chatterboxes. They fight like 
lions, but they gossip like women." 

When the time came for Napoleon's reappearance, 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 199 

the police were either blind or in collusion with his party. 
I even detected signs of intelligence among officers at a 
parade and tinder the king's very balcony. I remember 
breakfasting — early in March — in a cafe at the comer of 
the Rue d'Echelle, in the same room as some officers in 
civilian garb. They exchanged signs, showed one an- 
other cockades, real or fictitious manifestoes, etc. 

I was unable to persuade myself that if Napoleon came 
back Ney would stay with the king. It was difficult to 
understand how the marshal would make the past square 
with the present. The last time I saw Regnault he 
referred to Ney again in a way that frightened me : 

"He advised the abdication very harshly. I hardly 
know how the emperor would regard him now. " 

Regnault worshipped the emperor with such a stout 
faith that he looked upon him as a sort of demi-god armed 
with omnipotence. 

In the meanwhile — on the first of March — Napoleon 
sailed into the Gulf of Napoule, and disembarked at 
Cannes. Three days after, I was awakened early in the 
morning, and a letter was put into my hands containing 
extracts from proclamations strewn all along the road. 
I hastened to Regnault with this letter. I found him 
more excited than myself, though the reasons of his 
emotion were different from mine. He seemed to be 
out of his wits. He held out one of the proclamations 
before him, shouting out incoherently, as he walked to 
and fro: 

"General Marchand is at Grenoble! He is not fond 
of the emperor ! Ney starts for Besangon ! The dis- 
embarkation was a risky business ! Napoleon did not 
foresee what he was undertaking!" 

"Count," said I, "this is all like a dream !" 

"Oh, no; it is the painful truth! But what did Ney 
tell you?" 

" Ney believes Napoleon's return to be fatal to France. 



200 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

Ney is loyalty itself; he will oppose the emperor, yotl 
may be sure. That at least is his intention. Is he likely 
to change it?" 

I then told Regnault that since Ney had departed for 
Besangon, I would go there myself to see if I could not 
bring him to look at affairs in a different light. Regnault 
approved the idea. 

I set forth upon my impromptu journey of forty or 
forty-five hours asking myself what I should say to the 
marshal to make him change in his resolutions. And I 
also asked myself what manner of reception I should get. 
The spirit of the troops everywhere convinced me that 
Napoleon needed only to stand before them to be ac- 
claimed. It was as if a powder train had been laid. At 
Lyons the tricolour had already been hoisted. Every- 
thing I saw and heard increased my fear on the score of 
Michael Ney. The emperor's return called forth in the 
people a burst of enthusiasm which in some of them was 
so deep as to find vent in tears of joy. Napoleon was 
proving to the cabinets of Europe that renown is a good 
title to a throne. 

Had I been less well acquainted with Ney's character, 
the strange hostility that set in from the first day of the 
Restoration between his sentiments and his sense of 
duty would still be an inexplicable riddle to me. But in 
essaying to sketch this great soul, one of the most gener- 
ous and loyal natures ever made, I am forced to acknowl- 
edge his defects. Under manners which were at times 
uncouth, Ney wore the gentlest and most docile of hearts. 
Capable of the warmest feelings of good will and affection, 
he gave rein to these emotions with an impetus which 
might be harmless enough in private life, but which might 
become dangerous where larger interests were involved. 
Ever3rthing he said he profoundly felt; evervthing he 
promised he firmly intended to carry out; everything 
that was his will he believed to be his desire indeed. Ney 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 201 

has been calumniated by persons accusing him of acting 
upon premeditated design. The idea of a fixed plan 
requiring facility in lying was utterly incompatible with 
the openness of heart and mind which always distin- 
guished him. If he went so far as to forget his obligations 
towards the king, it was because behind the public opinion 
that condemned the Bourbon rule he saw the welfare of 
his country. 

Ney was to be at Lons le Saulnier. When I inquired 
about his arrival, I was told he had already left two hours 
before. I seemed to be awakening from a dream. 

I was in fact awakening. It was nine o'clock in the 
evening. From the "Golden Apple" I saw several 
illuminated windows with tricoloured banners floating 
from them. Animated crowds thronged the Rue Saint- 
Desire and the market square. I listened, and caught 
the marshal's name. Lending yet closer ear, I heard dim 
shouts of "Long live the emperor!" and these shouts 
ran on in my direction until they resounded full and loud. 
I understood that the great thing had happened. The 
revolution was accomplished. 

Desperate for knowledge of what part Ney had played 
on this historic day, I had one of the pretty young girls 
I had seen at the inn summoned to my room. She was 
the proprietor's daughter. With engaging simplicity 
and warmth she rendered me an account of the proceed- 
ings at Lons le Saulnier. The marshal did not declare 
his so-called "defection" in writing in the orders for the 
day. That document was only given out after he had 
read it aloud at the head of his troops at a place in Lons 
le Saulnier generally used for parades. The first sen- 
tence of his speech left no possible room for doubt. " Sol- 
diers, " said the marshal, "the cause of the Bourbons 
is lost forever!" This statement had a magical effect. 
The army repeated it from man to man, and their huge 
elation broke out into transports of joy. The white 



202 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

cockades and emblems of the lily vanished in the twinkling 
of an eye. Old veterans behaved like children. The 
infantry kissed their muskets, the cavalry hugged the 
necks of their horses. Ney was led to believe that the 
fate of France depended upon himself, and acted as he 
considered he ought, according to his conscience and 
reason, evidently determined not to give his country over 
to the terrible calamity of a civil war in which one-half 
of the army would have been pitted against the other. 

The supper hour came. I went down to the dining- 
room, and looked out of the window. Fireworks were 
being shot off, and petards exploded in the square. Sing- 
ing and shouts of joy were audible all about. 

Then appeared some of the chief actors in the play. 
Orderlies scurried through the room. A lieutenant- 
general, in full uniform, who had come by a dark narrow 
staircase, strode up and down the apartment. He was 
running feverish fingers through his hair, and shooting 
glances right and left to see if he was noticed. I recog- 
nized M. de Bourmont. 

Another man was expecting him there. He was an 
individual rather above middle height. His square, 
heavy figure seemed to indicate a well-to-do peasant. 
At most he might have been taken — ^because of his rubi- 
cund countenance, his brusque, imgainly ways, his round 
filibuster's hat and his loud, coarse manner — for a ras- 
cally specimen of a naval officer. He made the circuit 
of the room flashing his eyes at every guest. In him 
I recognized Lecourbe. 

Lecourbe, one of Massena's most brilliant lieutenants 
and a friend of Moreau, had tried to raise an agitation 
in the army during General Moreau's trial in 1804. Ad- 
hering faithfully to his friend his name was erased from 
the army roll, and he went back to live at home until 18 14. 
He took up arms again from motives of patriotism. 
Given the command of an army on the upper Rhine by 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 203 

Napoleon, he defended the entrenched camp of Belfort 
against the Archduke Ferdinand, and a few months after 
the archduke's decease died in his own house at Ruffey, 
a village near Lons le Saulnier. 

A curious company was assembled at the supper table. 
On my right sat a man called Commandant Vivian. His 
black, close woolly hair, and his fierce, forbidding visage 
contrasted curiously with the softest voice I ever remem- 
ber to have heard, and even more strikingly with the 
most polished and choice conversation an adventurous 
female traveller was ever privileged to listen to in a pro- 
vincial inn. He was still in pain from a perilous shot 
wound in the chest, just above the heart, inflicted upon 
him at the battle of Lutzen. 

The talk became general. Regret was expressed at 
the excesses whose suppression had become impossible 
after the marshal's too speedy departure. The cafe 
Bourbon, the meeting place of the Royalists, had fallen 
a prey to the violence of the populace. The officers 
were strongly opposed to the Bourbon dynasty, but I 
should not have thought such decided views to be com- 
patible with such moderation and even kindness. 

The weather was beautiful and the sky without a cloud. 
My journey to Lons le Saulnier had benefited me. Ney, 
I said to myself, will again seem to me what he was in 
the grandest days of the Empire. I left the town next 
morning in a postchaise to join Marshal Ney, who had 
gone on to Auxerre the day before. 

The road presented an extraordinary spectacle. Peas- 
ants had hastened from their fields ; everyone was in their 
doorways or in the public squares ; orderlies were galloping 
through the villages and perpetually being stopped by 
the eager inhabitants, to whom they threw manifestoes 
and cockades; everywhere there was a mixture of sur- 
prise, hesitation, and stupor on the part of the author- 
ities, coinciding with curiosity, movement, and delight 
among the majority of the people. 



204 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

When I saw the marshal he had lately had his first 
interview with the emperor. He had gone to him with 
frank loyalty. Napoleon, seeing him enter, had come 
forward to greet him, from the other end of the room 
where he was standing surrounded by officers, with ex- 
treme cordiality. I was not without apprehension as 
to the fashion in which Ney might receive me the evening 
I visited him at Auxerre. He showed no embarrassment 
at my unexpected arrival. At his words all my fears 
were dispelled. 

"Well, Ida," he said, "have events turned out as you 
wanted?" 

"Is the emperor satisfied?" 

"He would be rather hard to please if he were not ! 
Not in his palmiest days was he ever acclaimed with such 
enthusiasm — which I myself felt. Anybody who blames 
me would have done the same thing in my place, as a 
Frenchman and a soldier. It was impossible for an old 
soldier like me not to be carried away. Besides, this 
outburst of the army, rising as one man, may prove 
as useful to France as it was irresistible to me. Under 
the circumstances I spoke and acted as I thought best in 
obedience to the interests and opinions of my country- 
men." 

I saw Marshal Ney again in Paris, after the emperor 
was once more established at the metropolis. As for 
the latter subject, in connection with which various tales 
have been told, I will relate what I saw and heard in the 
Tuileries on the night of March 20th. 

The emperor came back by way of Fontainebleau, and 
entered the Tuileries at nine o'clock in the evening. This 
nocturnal resumption of the throne has been attributed 
to Napoleon's suspicion or at least diffidence as to the 
temper of Paris. Nothing could be more incorrect. 
Napoleon knew the state of France too well to be afraid 
of one town after passing through so many provinces. 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 205 

He had reason to feel quite safe about the sentiments of 
his good city of Paris. 

The waiting crowd was at last gratified. Napoleon 
ascended the stairs of the Tuileries escorted by a still 
greater crowd. Medals, gold lace, and ribbons of exalted 
orders brushed up indiscriminately against workmen's 
blouses and soldiers' coats. Persons who but the day 
before — ardent royalists that they were — had still been 
mourning the fall of the white standard, proudly donned 
— as zealous Bonapartists — the glorious three-coloured 
cockade ! But heaven forbid that I should mention 
names ! Some of these gentlemen discovered the art of 
thrice doing obeisance to the monarchy, which was re- 
stored a second time. 

Little was touching or sincere in all these protestations 
and effusions excepting the fidelity of the soldiers. Gren- 
adiers were weeping tears of joy in the presence of their 
officers, Drouot, Bertrand, and Cambronne, who likewise 
were deeply moved. Mobbed, surroiuided, elbowed, 
jostled, the emperor smiled each time he stumbled as he 
went up the staircase of the Tuileries. 

I was suddenly tapped lightly on the shoulder and a 
familiar person beckoned to me. We went aside, and he 
pulled out a piece of paper, with a list written on it. 
" Here," he said, " are your instructions," handing me the 
paper first and then a package of sealed envelopes. These 
I was to deliver to the officers commanding the chief 
garrison posts in Paris, at the Clichy, the Popincourt, 
the Ave Maria, the Nouvelle France, and other barracks. 
I started immediately in my cabriolet, going from one 
end of Paris to the other at a fast trot, making stops just 
long enough to ask for the adjutant and give him his 
letter. Then I went back to give accoimt of my mission. 




DUG DE VICENCE 



CHAPTER XVII 

THE NEW CABINET FOUCHE's TREACHERY CARNOT 

MADE MINISTER OF INTERIOR — HIS NOBLE MOTIVES 
FOR ACCEPTING THE PORTFOLIO — FOUCHE's DIVERTING 
VIEWS AS TO THE FUNCTIONS OF THE POLICE — HIS 

"moderation" A PRIVATE BREAKFAST WITH NEY 

IN THE CHAMPS ELYSEES — REGNAULT's APPREHEN- 
SIONS — HOPES OF AN ALLIANCE WITH AUSTRIA — 
POLITICAL UNREST IN PARIS — PARTICULARS OF THE 
NEW CONSTITUTION — THE GRAND CEREMONY OF ITS 
PROMULGATION — COMMENTS AND CRITICISMS — NA- 
POLEON ONCE MORE GIRDS HIS LOINS FOR WAR — 
ENTHUSIASM OF THE ARMY — THE CAPITAL'S FORTIFI- 
CATIONS ARE STRENGTHENED. 

Once more settled in the Tuileries, Napoleon selected 
the following ministry: the Duke de Bassano, who was 
recreated secretary of state ; Decrais, minister of marine ; 
Gaudin, minister of finance; Mollien, public treasurer; 
Caulaincourt, minister of foreign affairs ; Davout, minister 
of war. Fouche became minister of police and Carnot 
minister of interior. The last two appointments were 
especially noted by the public. The presence of two 
representatives of the old Republican party seemed to 
indicate that Napoleon, who after 1804 had apparently 
ignored the origin of that party from its democratic 
source, was now reverting to it in order to draw fresh 
political life from it. During the closing years of Na- 
poleon's reign, Fouch6 had at simdry times concocted 

207 



2o8 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

plots with Talleyrand. His position had never been 
quite clearly defined. Napoleon had the best of reasons 
to suspect him and keep him at arm's length. Improb- 
able as it may seem, Fouche's nomination as ministerof 
police, though his attitude had so frequently given cause 
for just suspicion during the final years of the Empire, 
was made in consonance with the request of the emperor's 
family, particularly of Queen Hortense, whom Fouche 
constantly deceived by professions of devotion. He made 
capital of the order of arrest issued against him by the 
Bourbons after the emperor's banishment to Elba. He 
boasted loudly of his loyalty, and alleged having con- 
spired towards Napoleon's return. 

It was thus that he was made minister of police prior 
to his great betrayal of his master. 

Meanwhile the emperor doubted the Duke of Otranto's 
integrity. He gave two reliable friends places whose 
nature would enable them to keep close to Fouche and 
watch his doings; he made Real prefect of police and 
Savary inspector-general of police. The precaution was 
well advised. 

Camot, the new minister of interior, had had a great 
name in the Revolution. His courageous pamphlet, of 
which I have made mention before, renewed his popularity, 
recalling memories of the glorious days of the Convention. 
The " organizer of victory," becoming minister of national 
defence, gave a fine example of democratic principles. 
In 1 8 14, seeing the sacred soil of his country trodden by 
the foot of the invader, Camot stifled the political opposi- 
tion he had harboured, and offered his services to the 
emperor. In March, 1815, he accepted the portfolio 
of the interior "as a man takes a post in the face of the 
enemy." Without protest he suffered the Moniteur 
— ^before his nomination to the cabinet — to officially 
publish his elevation to the rank of count in reward of his 
clever defence of Antwerp. He explained that he could 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 209 

" refuse nothing at this time, for the sake of the example. " 
But he never made application at the record office for 
his patent of nobility. 

Early one morning I was passing through the Rue de 
Grenelle and stepped into Camot's. I met him in the 
courtyard; he was coming out on foot, like a true Lace- 
demonian. On catching sight of me he greeted me with 
extreme cordiality, and invited me to his study. 

"To what may I owe the pleasure of your visit?" he 
said. "For you have certainly been neglecting me. 
Those brilliant military gentlemen have made you forget 
the old philosopher. Can I be of any use to you?" 

I hastened to say that I had not come as a petitioner, 
but as a friend. I told him I had faithfully executed the 
commission he had intrusted to me at the date of my 
departure for the South, and that since then I had con- 
stantly been in motion. 

"There is somebody who has been moving more than 
you, and that somebody was being watched by the whole 
of Eiu-ope." 

I congratulated Camot upon his patriotic conduct. 
He answered that if he had accepted a ministerial port- 
folio, he had done so in the hope of being able to benefit 
his country, adding that he had felt humiliated by the 
count's title, in which he had been obliged to acquiesce 
though it concorded so ill with his well-known views. 

"But," he went on, "our country wants the help of 
all her children. This is not the hour to stand upon one's 
hobbies. My compliance was an exchange for the con- 
fidence with which I was honoured b}^ the only man who 
can save us, the great captain who must keep the enemy 
from our borders. I have allowed m3^self to be made a 
count, so as to be able with the aid of time, victory, ad- 
vance of public opinion and that of the head of the state, 
to arrive at the happy result of unmaking all counts, past 
and present. '/ 



2IO MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

A few days after my visit to Carnot, the husband of 
one of my friends was arrested for having in his possession 
certain compromising political documents sent from 
Ghent. Distressed by the intense grief of his wife, I 
promised to go the next day to the minister of police, 
to beg his release. 

Upon arriving at the Duke of Otranto's, not having 
asked for an audience, I sent in my card. The minister 
replied that he would see me in half an hour. A stream 
of messengers passed in and out. I was finally admitted. 
Fouche came towards me with marked civility. 

"I, Madam, who know everything, was not aware of 
your being in Paris. My department is remiss." 

"Not at all, my Lord. If your agents have in their 
reports overlooked my presence in town — which is really 
of no importance — they sometimes err from exaggerated 
zeal in other cases. The request I come to put before 
your Excellency to-day is a proof of it. " 

I then disclosed the object of my visit. He listened 
obligingly. 

"My system," he said, "is not intended to render 
hateful the power whose purpose is to moderate excess. 
At every change of government there is reacted upon 
the police the position of its agents, whose membership 
is generally the same, and who then feel obliged to con- 
firm anew their reputation for capacity and fidelity. 
Therefore, to run no risk of losing their places, these good 
people take a plunge into furious activity. After that 
everything runs smoothly. So we must forgive them." 

I profited by the duke's smile to try to soften his 
heart for my poor friend. 

"Yes," he observed, "that is like you women; you 
shed tears over a sick butterfly ! What if a man is ar- 
rested ? It is such a simple matter ! Usually his arrest 
is a paternal act, which, carried out soon enough, prevents 
a fool from going further in some piece of idiocy that 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 211 

may be his ruin. According to what you tell me, your 
friend must be a fool. He shall be let go and told to 
keep quiet in the future, and the trouble will be all over. 
You too will give him this advice after he has been set at 
liberty. I promise to sign the warrant within a few 
hours. In every political party there are a number of 
rattle-brains who ought not to be persecuted, — persecu- 
tion never does any good, — but who must be looked after 
and muzzled like your acquaintance. Now, the military, 
for instance, your particular friends — might they not 
shout 'Long live the -emperor !' with more moderation?" 

" But it seems to me, your Grace, that one can scarcely 
shout loud enough !" 

" I am delighted to see you have such enthusiastic 
sentiments. But is it really ' Long live the emperor ! ' 
that you exclaim? Is there not some other thought 
beneath it?" 

"I do not understand." 

"The police. Madam, is a universal confessional. Let 
me inform you that military sins are disclosed here as 
well as others." 

The taciturn minister had waxed talkative — perhaps 
in the hope of making me so too. But I was cautious 
enough to keep my counsel. During this brief interview 
I however gained the painful conviction that there was 
a great deal of moderation in Fouche's devotion to Na- 
poleon. 

Escorting me to the door he said : 

"Recommend your friends, whoever they may be, to 
be moderate and to behave themselves." 

Two or three hours later the orders of the Duke of 
Otranto had been carried into effect. The minister of 
police had released "one of the fools who ought not to be 
persecuted, but looked after and muzzled." 

Immediately upon the arrival of Marshal Ney at Paris, 
whither he had been summoned to organize the young 



212 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

guard, I received a note from him, requesting me to meet 
him at an eating house in the Champs Elysees. De- 
lighted at this token of friendliness, I went to the ap- 
pointed place, being first to get there. I was dressed in 
female apparel, simply but stylishly. There was a great 
concourse of military men in the Champs Elysees. Their 
martial countenances shone with happiness and hope, 
as in our brightest days of triumph. All were talking 
in exultant terms about Napoleon. 

Suddenly I perceived Ney in plain clothes beckoning 
me to come to him. I made haste to do so. I reached 
him all out of breath, and was surprised to see Ney send 
away his cabriolet and go into a shabby little tavern. 
The marshal was encased in a long coat, his face con- 
cealed beneath a broadbrimmed hat. I, on the other 
hand, in my modish attire, felt some hesitation in entering 
such a place, and put on the airs of Mme. Cottin's hero- 
ines when they first venture into a mysterious castle. 
Ney climbed to a sort of wooden balcony, whence he cast 
down upon me a look of discontent. Recognizing my 
silliness, I crossed the threshhold, and debonairely scaled 
the steps until I reached the balcony. I put aside my 
cape, and we began to chat. I asked him what the next 
move was to be. He replied that the emperor was the 
same as ever, for which he was very sorry. 

The weather was rainy, but quite mild. The queer 
place where we exchanged our confidences cannot easily 
be imagined. It was a bare, hideous room full of tables 
covered with linen of most uninviting appearance. We 
nevertheless ate with a splendid appetite. We were 
served with an omelet and a giblet stew, washing them 
down with some good Suresnes wine. We jovially re 
minded each other that we had often fared worse during 
the retreat from Russia. 

Ney had engaged all the tables on the first floor, so 
that we ran no risk of being interrupted. 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 213 

** Ida, " he said, " we are going to fight again. Are you 
still inclined for the finest trade in the world?" 

"Oh, certainly, always with you. Marshal!" 

Some disturbance became audible downstairs. I went 
out upon the balcony where I could hear soldiers and men 
of the people talking and drinking, and singing military 
and patriotic songs. The company whose involuntary 
listeners we were was a curious popular study. The 
soldiers, who played the principal part, in spite of their 
Bacchic and sentimental digressions were always resum- 
ing their celebrations of warlike topics. The emperor's 
name was more frequently invoked than the tender pas- 
sion, 

"Well," I heard one of the warriors say, "we have 
the little man at last, and in a few days the mother and 
the child will be with him at the Tuileries. " 

For some time — which we however did not allow to 
hang heavily on our hands — we were thus blockaded in 
our balcony, until eventually the soldiers dispersed at 
hearing drums beating the retreat. Before we separated 
Ney warned me that he could not see me again for several 
days. We parted near the Arc de Triomphe. 

The next day was the review of a body of troops that 
had been under the command of the Duke de Berry, and 
which I witnessed. It was a fine moment when Cam- 
bronne and the grenadiers from Elba marched past with 
the eagles. After the review the emperor had these 
brave fellows drawn up in a square, and gave them one of 
his vibrant, inspiriting discourses. 

On my way home I met a crowd of brothers-in-arms. 
There was no way of avoiding a military feast. The plans 
and policy of the emperor were tumultuously debated. 
There were four pretty women present, each of us adorned 
with a nosegay of violets. At every glass of champagne 
the ladies plucked out a few flowers which they placed 
in the gentlemen's buttonholes, with shouts of "Long 
live the emperor!'* 



214 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

In those days I often saw Regnault. He seemed anx- 
ious although charmed at the emperor's return. But he 
gave himself up to no illusions. He was aware that the 
new order of things hung for their stability upon the turn 
of political negotiations — upon the alliance with Austria 
and the return of Marie-Louise and the King of Rome. 

A very, singular thing was the optimism of the people 
in high places, in all parties. Confirmed royalists as- 
serted that the king had not left Lille, and that the entire 
provinces, with the exception of Paris, had hoisted the 
white banner of the Bourbons. On the other side, friends 
of mine in closest touch with the emperor's government 
were already reckoning upon Austria's aid to Napoleon. 
Many felt convinced that even before taking up arms in 
our favour the "Viennese father-in-law" would send 
back to his imperial son-in-law his wife, Marie-Louise, 
and his son, the King of Rome, and in spite of his scepti- 
cism since the Revolution, Regnault de Saint-Jean-d' 
Angely himself was not far from sharing the belief of the 
people as regarded this assistance. 

Regnault spoke to me of a design he had to secure a 
place for me in Queen Hortense's household. Events 
left him no time to carry out his intention. 

The need of activity and movement which incessantly 
burned within me, gave me some slight political value 
during the Hundred Days. I seemed already to note a 
certain shifting of public opinion. All attempts at resist- 
ance on the part of the Bourbons had failed. Neverthe- 
less there was an undercurrent of mute opposition. 
Politics were being discussed everywhere, and — what had 
never been known to happen before — people were not 
afraid to analyze the emperor's aims. Often, in the 
houses where I expected to find the most faithful adher- 
ence to him, remarks like this would be passed: 

" It is true that when he landed Napoleon made a pro- 
clamation of our rights, but now, as you see, we still have 
no Constitution." 




MADAME DE STAEL 
{From an Oil Paiiiti)!^ hi a I'rivale Collecliot:) 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 215 

The new charter was being criticised, although it had 
not yet been pubHshed. Everyone was complaining 
and nobody knew exactly what they wanted. Only the 
soldiers continued to show unswerving loyalty to Napoleon. 
And the emperor had every reason to trust fully to his 
army, which was attached to him with a fanatical devo- 
tion. 

At the end of April, 18 15, occurred the publication in 
the Moniteur of the new, impatiently awaited Con- 
stitution, officially styled "An Additional Act to the 
Constitution of the Empire." It was popularly known 
as the "Benjamin," from the name of its chief author, 
a man bitterly hostile to the imperial government after 
the Consulate, the Swiss writer — a former friend of Mme. 
de Stael — M. Benjamin Constant, who had consented to 
devise a liberal constitution for his enemy, hoping to 
append his own name to it. This Constitution was sub- 
mitted to the votes of the French electors, who were to 
enter their suffrages in registers opened in all the com- 
munes. The result was to be declared at an assembly 
convoked at Paris for the 26th day of May, 181 5. By 
the "Additional Act" legislative authority was divided 
between the sovereign and two chambers, one of hered- 
itary peers and the other of representatives chosen by 
the people. The liberty of the press was guaranteed; 
the Bourbon family was forever denied the throne, all 
measures intended to reintroduce feudal taxes or pre- 
rogatives, or to establish a state religion in France, were 
expressly forbidden. Provosts' courts were abolished. 
The debates in the upper chamber were to be public; 
the declaration of a state of siege was to be the privilege 
of the chambers ; ministerial responsibility was increased, 
and so on. 

Of fifteen hundred and thirty thousand votes only 
about five thousand were cast in the negative. So the 
nation accepted the "Benjamin" eagerly enough. 



2i6 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

The day after this was known I repaired early in the 
morning to the Champ de ]\Iars to attend the ceremon}^ of 
promulgating the " xVdditional Act to the Constitution 
of the Empire." 

From the first moment I felt profoundly cast down. 
I discovered that secret hostility against the emperor 
was rife. I overheard a conversation between two officers 
who were in ci\'ilian dress. Their boldness of speech 
was no less than cynical. Said one of them : 

"What does he want with liis burlesque on the reign 
of Charlemagne? After sending our rights through the 
crucible of the 'Additional i\ct, ' does he suppose we 
are to be consoled with his imperial nonsense?" 

The emperor and his brothers appeared in all the splen- 
dour of variegated silks and velvets. At the sight of 
these garments of a bygone age, the crowd, instead of 
manifesting the enthusiasm due to a great captain momit- 
ing his steed to save his country, seemed to be moved 
by no emotion stronger than curiosity for a richly dressed 
actor. That was the tenor of the remarks passed all 
about me. They were cruel and malignant, and saddened 
me grievously, the more so as there was no reply to make. 

The religious service which preceded the taking of the 
oath w^as imposing through its grand simplicit}^ Stand- 
ing at the foot of an immense altar. Napoleon dominated 
the scene through the dignity of his demeanour. He 
there appeared to me like one of the heroes of antiquity 
offering up a propitiatory sacrifice to the gods before 
battle. 

The emperor spoke, and his voice reached me. He 
subscribed, by an oath on the Bible, to the laws of the 
Empire. In his turn he received the oath of allegiance 
of the people through the electors; that of the anny 
through the minister of war; that of the national guard 
through the minister of the interior. 

The silence that ensued was broken by a tremendous 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 217 

shout of " Long live the emperor !" which spread through 
the vast gathering on the Champ de Mars. Then the 
troops marched past. The crowd never wearied of ad- 
miring those brave fellows, those bronzed veterans of 
the guard, who in their breasts bore wounds covered 
with honourable medals. 

I was almost dead with fatigue when I got home. I 
had been on my feet all day, like a veteran last to leave 
the field of battle. 

The day after the ceremony a number of persons were 
arguing about it at the Count Regnault's. Some dis- 
paraged the costume worn by the emperor and his bro- 
thers. Asked for my opinion, I answered that I would 
rather have seen the emperor in his gray coat and his 
little cocked hat, than in the plumed cap and the silk 
and gold mantle. 

I saw Ney on the day of his nomination to the House 
of Peers. I told him what I had heard. 

"Let them jabber," he said. "They will yield to the 
iron hand of necessity. They will do some brave talking 
and then they will meekly give way." 

Pie told me too that he believed the emperor was being 
betrayed even by members of the government. Fouch(§, 
whom Napoleon had for a moment thought of imprison- 
ing instead of making him minister of police, Fouch6 
was playing him false, maintaining secret intelligence 
with the royalists, Mettemich, and Talleyrand. Murat, 
upon the advice of Caroline, tried to weather the storm 
alone. But the united powers had not been slow to give 
their reply to his manifesto, and in the beginning of May 
the rout at Tolentino was enough to foreshadow his loss 
of the throne. A month later he made his escape from 
Naples in a fishing boat. 

An individual well versed in the political situation 
mentioned to me the letter Napoleon had addressed to 
the powers. Quoth my informant: 



2i8 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

"Napoleon is in danger. That letter will do no good. 
The emperor is wrong to make overtures to the Viennese 
court. He can effect nothing except by winning a battle. ' ' 

For this consummation the emperor was preparing 
with all the resource and might of his genius. He elec- 
trified the national guard by merely passing through the 
ranks. A banquet of fifteen thousand covers given on 
the Champ de Mars to the imperial guard was a gorgeous 
festivity. His six armies were christened the army of the 
North, the Jura, the Moselle, the Rhine, the Alps, and 
the Pyrenees. Batteries of artillery were formed; three 
hundred cannon were mounted on the commanding spots 
of Paris ; bodies of irregulars and volunteers were organ- 
ized. There was a rumour of the people of the northern 
and eastern districts of France rising in a mass ; roads and 
defiles bristled with trenches. It made me rejoice to see 
all these preparations for defence and signs of national 
activity succeeding one another and giving hope of vic- 
tory. The regiments again took the glorious names they 
had won in the battles of the Republic and the Empire, 
names such as the "Invincible," "the Terrible," "One 
Against Ten." These regiments had the memories of 
a score of brilliant campaigns to inspire them. The old 
guard was strengthened by six thousand picked men. 

"Let Napoleon proclaim France a republic," said a 
friend of the imfortunate Quesnel to me. "With that 
magic word and the quickening of all souls, Montmartre 
itself would become a Jemmapes or a Valmy. There is 
in our people a national fanaticism, a hatred of foreigners, 
that would make a hero out of every armed Frenchman." 

In the midst of these great happenings the Republicans 
were by no means idle. There was even a touch of 
Jacobinism in the general ferment. The review of the 
Federals took place in the Place du Carrousel. It made 
a miserable impression on me. This collection of raga- 
muffins, among whom the coalheavers were the cleanest, 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 219 

came full of enthusiasm. But it was a brawling enthus- 
iasm which resembled a menace to the safety of the 
Empire rather than an earnest of its defence. There was 
a melancholy contrast between these unruly gangs and 
the splendidly disciplined soldiers. I walked about 
in the crowd, and three times I was near enough to the 
emperor to have touched him. His features wore a con- 
strained and preoccupied look which was sad to see. I 
went away in disgust. 

A few people I met in the evening shared my sentiments. 
A counsellor of state told how Napoleon had clasped the 
hilt of his sword at the reading of the programme of the 
Breton Federation. Everyone exclaimed: 

"If we only win the first battle ! Without a military 
success nothing will avail against the frenzy of our 
own people." Ney was in a rage with everybody; he 
was in turn furious with the ministers, the people, and the 
emperor himself, because of this review. 

Meanwhile the popular ecstasy which Napoleon's 
return had provoked was unabated, since fresh sections 
of the army marched through Paris every day. The 
emperor realized that the sight of his gray cloak was not 
without influence upon the minds of his soldiers, whose 
fervency was of great moment in its effect upon public 
opinion at the capital. I did not care to believe in Reg- 
nault's political apprehensions, who feared the hostile 
spirit of the Republicans against Napoleon. Regnault 
held that there were turncoats belonging to the Conven- 
tion as well as to the old nobility. He was right, as 
soon became apparent. 

Paris now resembled a camp of war. The emperor 
often went in the morning to inspect the fortifications at 
Montmartre, and rarely with any escort but Generals 
Bertrand and Montholon. Anyone could have approached 
him without the least difficulty. Amid the existing 
hatred of him and the general unrest, the emperor showed 



220 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

extraordinary courage in thus exposing himself to any 
dagger that might so easily have been levelled at him. 
One day I saw. him going out on horseback, accompanied 
by three or four officers. He was riding through the 
suburb of Saint-Denis one morning, in the familiar coat 
and hat, tranquil and observant. I saw him proceeding 
at a walk, and I followed from afar. I too went on horse- 
back, in male garb. No one made any demonstrations. 
People opening their shops took their hats off to the 
emperor as he passed, and then spoke of him hopefully 
as though interested rather in the man than in his govern- 
ment. 

Leaving the city by the Saint-Denis gate, the emperor 
mounted the heights and examined the fortifications. 
He talked at some length with the officers commanding 
the works. I thought to observe that he was dissatisfied 
with what he saw. Although it was still early in the 
day there were a number of workmen assembled. Na- 
poleon remained a considerable time, conversing with 
two generals and now and then stopping to give a group 
of workmen a good word. And then shouts of "Long 
live the emperor!" went up. When I reached home 
again it wanted but a little of noon. 



CHAPTER XVIII 

THE LAST CAMPAIGN — IDA FOLLOWS NEY TO WATERLOO — 
HIS HEROISM IN THE BATTLE CALMNESS OF NAPO- 
LEON THE RETREAT — CAMILLA, ANOTHER MILITARY 

WOMAN — IS WOUNDED AND TAKEN CARE OF BY THE 
AUTHORESS — THE RETURN TO PARIS — CARNOT's IR- 
RATIONAL HOPEFULNESS — HE RESISTS NAPOLEON 's DE- 
THRONEMENT SINGLE-HANDED THE CONTEMPORARY'S 

LAST INTERVIEW WITH NEY — CAMILLA 's RECOVERY 
AND DISAPPEARANCE. 

Napoleon's departure was close at hand, for the cam- 
paign was impending. All the generals had joined their 
troops on the Belgian frontier, and I had many farewells 
to make. A whole day had not sufhqed for them. 

I left Paris on the night of June the 12th, on the morn- 
ing of which Ney had joined the army. Had he been 
aware that I was following the soldiers again, he would 
have ordered me back to the capital at once. So I took 
care to keep out of his sight. I arrived at Charleroi two 
hours after the marshal had left. I did not see him until 
he was at Ligny, a little before the battle at that place. 
The details are familiar of the splendid fighting to which 
the march upon Quatre Bras was the sequel. Half by 
accident and half through fascination I at last found 
myself face to face with Ney. As usual he became angry, 
and commanded me to return to Paris, or at least to go 
back as far as Charleroi. Of course I did nothing of the 
sort. 

During this brief war our soldiers maintained their 

221 



222 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

customary good spirits and bravery. 1 lived among 
them, so to speak, in the intimacy of the battlefield. The 
very night preceding the fatal 1 8th of June the men were 
as merry as they had been in the heyday of our fortunes. 
The evening before Waterloo I told the marshal of the 
jokes the soldiers made about keeping their arms sheltered 
from the teeming rain. The weather was in truth abom- 
inable. 

"I hope," Ney had said to me twenty-four hours be- 
fore, "that we shall finish off these gentlemen from Eng- 
land." 

He was then bubbling with hope, but by the next time 
I saw him he had become anxious. He ordered me posi- 
tively to go back, while there was yet time. I pretended 
to obey. Meanwhile I arranged to be within easy reach 
of the rear of the line. What a pen it would require to 
do justice to the scenes that happened a few hours later ! 

Waterloo was perhaps the Prince de la Moskwa's most 
brilliant battle. He was entrusted with the central at- 
tack, upon the village and farmhouse of la Haie Sainte. 
Supported by eighty pieces of artillery, he made the on- 
slaught with all his magnificent heroism, and took the 
position after a terrible struggle. He held it all day. 
The battle would soon have been won had the English 
not received succour. Alas ! while Napoleon, impatiently 
awaiting Grouchy, thought to perceive advancing upon 
the field the columns that were to assure his victory, 
Bulow's thirty thousand Prussians, attracted by the 
cannonading, were marching against our right and our 
rear, and were soon followed by thirty thousand more 
Prussians, under old Blucher, who established communica- 
tion between Bulow and the English. From thencefor- 
ward the defeat of the French army was but a question of 
time. Ney attempted to create a reaction, and to compel 
victory to remain with our standards. He dismounted 
from his horse, and took his sword in hand. Seconded 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 223 

by Friant and Cambronne he repulsed the enemy oppos- 
ing him, and braved the terrific fire of a long line of in- 
fantry. Soon the enemy's attack grew more formid- 
able. Our men had exhausted their ammunition. Then 
the fateful cry rang out of " Run for your lives ! " It came 
from some wretched traitors, and was being repeated by 
fleeing soldiers. The formations loosened, and became 
disordered, general confusion followed, and the rout be- 
gan. None but the eight battalions of the guard stood 
fast in the centre. The big-hearted Cambronne, with his 
indomitable courage, exhorted them to resist. Ney was 
by his side. The marshal had had five horses killed under 
him in the affray. His sword was broken. In every 
square might be heard shouted the command after each 
of the enemy's volleys : " Close up the ranks ! " But the 
splendid squares of the old guard fell crushed by the 
weight of numbers while defending themselves to the 
last breath. 

I witnessed the battle of Waterloo on horseback from 
behind our lines. 

I cannot say with what emotion my eyes followed 
those dreadful scenes of carnage and the successive gallant 
charges of our cavalry. At the end of the day when the 
Prussians were taking part in the action, and the battle 
was lost, Ney, his clothes riddled with shot, his face stream- 
ing blood, threw himself into the middle of a square com- 
posed of heroes of the old guard, surrounded by corpses, 
exclaiming : 

" France is lost ! We must die here ! " 

The Bravest of the Brave, unwilling to survive the dis- 
aster, never desisted from confronting the enemy's fire, 
hoping that it would kill him. His uniform was in shreds. 
He was covered with contusions ; he had been knocked 
down several times; his horses that had been shot had 
rolled over him. At last he could no longer stand on his 
legs, and was about to succumb when a corporal and two 



224 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

or three grenadiers seized him and carried him away with 
the remains of their column. 

Night had come, I was in the midst of the army, which 
was now in full retreat. Let my readers imagine a woman 
astray on the field of battle, utterly worn out by bodily 
fatigue and under stress of the greatest anguish of soul — 
and then let them be surprised because in the account of 
that awful catastrophe I have not recorded everything 
exactly as it occurred. My head goes round at the bare 
thought of those fearful moments : I am on horseback — 
I am borne away in the flood of fugitives, and am lost in 
the throng — I yield to the torrent — I no longer see it, since 
it hems me in on every side ! 

Those who say that Napoleon was a coward, and that he 
fled from the field after watching the battle from a safe 
spot, never saw him in war. During the fight at Mont Saint- 
Jean I watched the emperor's face through a telescope 
shortly before the rout began. He was giving an order 
for the grenadiers to make a final attempt to cross a 
ravine choked with the bodies of French soldiers. His 
coimtenance was absolutely impassive. About him were 
falling his bravest and best. He never frowned. He 
seemed to be measuring the abyss of horror with his 
eagle eye, and to be searching for an issue from it. He 
was then expecting Grouchy's army. When the Prus- 
sians appeared instead, and were upon our already deci- 
mated ranks, his officers surrounded him and took him 
away. The soldiers vented their rage in exclaimmg 
against some unfortunate generals. 

The rain was streaming down ; the roads were sodden 
and almost impracticable. We stimibled over corpses 
and dying men. I was carried along with a retreating 
column, being obliged to move with the current or be 
trampled down. The sight of the dead was no less terri- 
ble than the shrieks of the wounded left to perish by the 
wayside. In the darkness I accosted a man who seemed 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 225 

scarcely able to drag himself along, and who I thought 
must be wounded. But it proved to be a woman in dis- 
guise. I cannot say what my feelings were when I recog- 
nized my friend Camilla, the gentle mistress of the brave 
yoimg General Duhesme, who had been killed after the 
action. She had followed him wherever he went. She 
had sacrificed rank and wealth for his sake, and had seen 
him slain under her own eyes. Camilla was so faint that 
at first she did not know me. I made her drink from 
my flask, and upon reviving she burst into tears. The 
imhappy girl had become involved in a skirmish. Her 
right hand was cut, and her right shoulder slightly in- 
jured by a sabre thrust. She said to me : 

" The Prussians are murderers, not soldiers ; they slaugh- 
ter people, setting upon them ten to one." 

The night had become very dark. It was lighted up at 
moments by irregular flashes. I caught sight of some 
marauding peasants, one of whom came up to us. I 
offered him money to furnish us with a guide. Himself 
showed us to the main road. Here he secured a convey- 
ance for us in which we rode to Paris in four days. Ca- 
milla travelled prone on the seat. By the time we had 
reached the metropolis she was in a fever. I took her to 
my apartment, and put her into my bed, while I made 
shift on the floor with a mattress. Camilla finally became 
delirious. I had a doctor summoned, and then hired a 
nurse to take care of her. 

Meanwhile I underwent severe apprehensions as to the 
fate of Ney. I heard at length that he was safe and 
sound. Knowing, however, that I should pain him 
deeply by letting the wife he cherished and respected 
know of my interest in him through some rash act, I re- 
frained from making any endeavour to see him. 

My old friend, Regnault-de-Saint Jean d'Angely was 
in despair. All was lost, he lamented. The Faubourg 
Saint-Germain was clamouring for the Bourbons. The 



226 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

House of Representatives was busy with a constitution 
instead of with levying fighters. 

"It is men we want," said Regnault, "and they are 
only concocting laws!" 

Camot surprised me by the view he took of Waterloo. 
He by no means deplored the dreadful disaster and the 
dire consequences which threatened, but opined that it 
would probably be a good thing for France. Instead of 
owing their welfare to an army and a general, he thought 
that his countrymen, rising up in arms, would work out 
their own salvation. After driving away their enemies, 
they would not need to fear that victory meant fresh 
servitude for them. I tried to draw Camot out of his 
delusion. His extraordinary hopefulness was quite be- 
yond belief. He thought he could raise a million soldiers ; 
that the mobilization of all the national guards would re- 
place a professional army of experienced men ; that it would 
be enough to proclaim the country in danger, as in 
1 793 ; that Paris would prepare for a siege ; that she would 
be defended ; that in the last resort we might retreat be- 
vond the Loire; that we could fortify ourselves there; 
that by calling upon the troops in the Vendue and the 
Midi we could hold out until, having recuperated and 
gathered fresh energy, we could fall upon our enemies with 
a reorganized army and drive them out of the coimtry. 

Such blindness made me sad. Nevertheless I did not 
contradict a man for whose character I felt such pro- 
foimd admiration and esteem, 

A few days after he had imparted his views to me, at 
the cabinet meeting which pronounced upon Napoleon's 
abdication Camot was the only minister who vigorously 
opposed it, asserting that such abdication would mean the 
ruin of the country. He w^as determined to resist to the 
very last. When he perceived that he was alone in his 
opinion, and that the abdication was certain, he leaned 
on the table with his face in his hands, and broke into 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 227 

sobs. It was then that Napoleon, with deep emotion in 
his voice, addressed the famous words to his minister of 
the interior: 

"Carnot, I ought to have known you sooner !" 

About the end of June I got word from Ney. I forth- 
with repaired to the Rue Richelieu, the meeting that was 
to be our last. Ney was standing at a window, looking 
extremely gloomy. I hastened upstairs and found myself 
alone with him in a room containing a portrait of the 
emperor in full size. We talked together for an hour. 
Ney spoke of Waterloo . ' * The victory was in our hands ! ' ' 
he exclaimed. "Napoleon's generalship was perfect. 
Our soldiers never fought with more ardour. And to 
think of being beaten with such men !" 

All the consolation that a loving heart could devise 
I freely offered him. I asked him no questions. I told 
him of my encounter with Camilla in a few words. 

"Poor creature?" he exclaimed pityingly. "She was 
in Spain during the war there, and imderwent the greatest 
hardships so as to be near her lover, Foy knows her; 
he urged her to go home until peace was declared. Her 
answer was a threat to blow out her brains before the 
whole regiment." 

"She would have done it," I replied, "she gave up 
everything for him, and her only object in life was to love 
him." 

Ney wanted to press some bank notes upon me for 
Camilla's supposed wants. A generous subterfuge ! I 
refused the money, making myself out much richer than I 
was. My real reason for declining was that I felt Michael 
Ney would very soon need all his resources. 

As for Camilla, the fever had left her, and she was 
rapidly convalescing. Soon after my interview with Ney, 
I went out early one morning to find, upon my return 
home, that Camilla had gone. She had addressed a letter 
to me, in which she confessed that the doctor who had 



228 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

attended her had informed her she was to become a 
mother. Foreseeing all the embarrassment and expense 
which would be imposed upon me, she had decided to 
quit my house forever, so that I might be free of her. 
She asked me to forgive her, vowing that I might count 
upon her eternal gratitude. My distress cannot be 
imagined. It was as if I had lost a dear sister. I vainly 
made inquiries at all the hospitals ; my search was fruitless. 
I learnt nothing whatever that rendered the slightest clue 
as to her whereabouts. But in 1819 I met Camilla in 
Belgium, happily married to a good man in government 
employ and the mother of three children. The token of 
her passion for General Duhesme, that she bore in her 
womb when she left me, had not survived. 




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THE "CONTEMPORARY" IN 1S20 



CHAPTER XIX 

BANISHMENT OF CARNOT — NEY's INTENDED DEPARTURE 

TO THE UNITED STATES HE IS ARRESTED AT BESSONIS 

— HIS CHIVALROUS REFUSAL TO ATTEMPT ESCAPE — A 
PLOT TO RESCUE HIM — THE COURT-MARTIAL DECLARES 
ITSELF AN INCOMPETENT TRIBUNAL — NEY IS TRIED 
BEFORE THE HOUSE OF PEERS — CONDEMNED — AND 
SHOT — IDA SEES HIM GOING TO HIS EXECUTION — HER 
VOW OF AMENDMENT AT HIS BIER — CONCLUSION, 

On the 24th of July, 181 5, there appeared in the Momteur 
a list of some twenty military officers who were to be 
arrested and tried by court martial, for treason to King 
Louis XVIII. in connection with the Himdred Days. 
Among them were Ney, Labedoy^re, Lefebvre-Desnou- 
ettes. Grouchy, Bertrand, Drouot, Savary, Cambronne. 
Another, much longer list, of persons expelled from 
France for having "seized control of the government by 
force," included the names of Camot and Regnault de 
Saint-Jean d' Angely. The fact must not be overlooked 
that in this second list, drawn up by Fouche, were men- 
tioned some of the Duke d' Otranto's own friends, and 
even some of his colleagues in the ministry of the Him- 
dred Days — Camot, for instance, the minister of interior. 

In his indignation Camot wrote the following short 
note to Fouche, which was seen by Marshal vSaint-Cyr, 
minister of war at the time : 

"Where am I to go, traitor?" 

Fouche, with his usual cynicism, answered on the same 
piece of paper: 

229 



230 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

"Wherever you please, idiot." 

Ney had intended to leave France altogether, utterly 
disheartened as he was by the turn of events after Water- 
loo. He proposed to go to the United States, there to 
live with an uncle of Mme, Ney. This was M. Genet, 
a Girondist who had once been a member of the National 
Convention, but was now an American citizen. He was 
a brother of Mme. Auguie (Mme. Ney's mother), and had 
married the daughter of Judge Clinton at New York. 
M. Genet was fond of the marshal, with whom he had 
long been in correspondence, and whom he had invited to 
Albany, his place of residence. 

Marshal Ney remained at the mineral springs of Saint- 
Alban imtil July 25th, and during his sojourn at that 
place made arrangements with a banker, M. Pontalba, 
to open a credit for him in the United States. His wife, 
not understanding the full import of the government's 
decree, was no doubt influenced by her affection for her 
children's father so far as to persuade him to defer the 
journey. After the publication of the notice in the 
Moniteur Ney entirely renounced the idea of the voyage, 
deeming it beneath his dignity to leave France. Yielding 
to the instances of his friends, he however consented to ask 
the Michel brothers, who had made their fortunes as army 
contractors, to give him shelter at their ironworks, 
secluded in the dense forest of Azay. The police would 
never have looked for the marshal there. But the broth- 
ers Michel, forgetful of all their erstwhile promises of 
devotion, refused hospitality to the outcast. Ney then 
went to the Chateau de Bessonis. He gave himself up to 
the men who were seeking him, but who did not know 
him. 

I had renewed my acquaintance in Paris with M. Belloc, 
who had formerly served under the marshal. From him 
I learnt all the news that had any reference to the illus- 
trious outlaw. Sometimes I would become filled with 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 231 

hope, and again I would be plunged into despair and 
terror. I was one of the first to hear of Ney's arrest at 
Bessonis, through a letter from Captain Jaumard, the 
police officer charged with the painful mission of bringing 
the marshal back to Paris. Someone was warning this 
officer that in the neighbourhood of Bessonis were posted 
individuals who perhaps designed to abduct the marshal. 
Ney was himself in the room where this secret communica- 
tion was made. He overheard enough to apprize him 
of the subject of the conversation. He stepped forward, 
remarking to the officer: 

" Captain, I will do no more than remind you that I have 
given you my word of honour to go to Paris with you. If 
an attempt is made to carry me off against your will, 
then I shall ask you for weapons to help you in frustrating 
such a plan, in order that my sacred promise to you may 
be fulfilled to the letter." 

Four miles from Paris Mme. Ney was waiting for her 
husband at an inn, the newspapers having acquainted 
her with his apprehension and forthcoming arrival. The 
police officers allowed the couple to converse in private. 
When they had done, the marshal told one of the officers 
that he was ready to go on in the carriage. Ney had tears 
in his eyes, and noticed that the officer too was moved. 
He accordingly said: 

"You may be surprised to see me weep. It is not on 
my own account that I am sorry, but because of my 
children." 

The marshal was first confined in the Abbaye prison 
and then at the Conciergerie. It came to my ears that 
a plot was brewing in Paris to bring about Ney's escape, 
should he be condemned to death. I was heart and soul 
with the scheme to rescue the bravest soldier of the 
French army and the idol of my admiration, and did my 
utmost to further it. Gamot, Ney's brother-in-law, with 
whom I became acquainted through Belloc, was one of us. 



232 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

But Gamot had slight hopes. He was afraid, of the con- 
sequences of Ney's bluntness, and of the pride he was sure 
to exhibit under cross-examination. 

The marshal's counsel were for raising the objection 
that the court martial was not competent to try him. 
He was a member of the House of Peers, and therefore 
only amenable to trial before that body. As soon as I 
knew of whom the court was to be composed, I ceased 
to recognize any advantage in denying its competency. 
The members were all brothers-in-arms of Ney : Marshals 
Jourdan (president), Massena, Augereau, and Mortier, 
and Lieutenant-Generals Gazan, Claparede, and Villatte. 

The prisoner appeared before his judges on the 9th of 
November in a plain uniform, with shoulder-pieces de- 
noting his military grade and one order — that of the 
Legion of Honour. The president of the tribunal began 
asking him usual questions as to name, age, birthplace, 
domicile, and occupation. Ney answered them, stating 
that he did so from deference to the marshals, but adding 
that he claimed the court to be incompetent. M. Berryer 
made a long and eloquent speech in proof of Ney's con- 
tention. The result was this: After retiring for a 
quarter of an hour, the judges returned to the room, and 
their spokesman. Marshal Jourdan, annotmced that by a 
vote of five to two the court declared it was not competent 
to try Marshal Ney. 

Marshal Moncey, Duke de Conegliano, upon being simi- 
moned to sit on this court martial, had refused in a letter 
to the king that breathed a noble spirit of patriotism and 
magnanimity. I quote a portion of the letter : 

"Since I am placed between the cruel alternatives of 
disobeying Your Majesty and of violating my conscience, 
I find it necessary to explain myself. My life, my fortune, 
and ever3rthing precious of mine is at the disposal of my 
country and my king. But my honour belongs to myself ; 
no human power can rob me of it. And yet I am asked 




{After Portman' s Engraving) 





MARSHAL MONCEY, DUKE DE COXEGLIANO 

{From Walbonne's Painting) 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 233 

to pass judgment on Marshal Ney ! Allow me to inquire 
of your Majesty what his accusers were doing while he 
was fighting all our battles? Can France forget the 
hero of the Beresina?" 

Moncey paid dearly for this letter. A royal decree 
stripped him of his marshal's rank and of his duke's title, 
and he was confined for three months to the fortress of 
Ham. 

On the 23rd of November Ney was brought before the 
House of Peers. The particulars of the trial and its fear- 
ful issue are well known. In the course of their argu- 
ments Ney's coimsel adduced in his defence the fact of 
Sarrelouis — the marshal's home — having become foreign 
territory, which, they said, made him an alien. 

"No, gentlemen!" the marshal impetuously broke in, 
" I have lived and fought as a Frenchman ! As a French- 
man I will die !" 

Being unable to witness the trial, I made arrangements 
to be informed of every step in its progress. There were 
several meeting places agreed upon among the prisoner's 
friends. All my energies were bent towards the com- 
pletion of the plan by which he might be rescued if con- 
demned to death. Thirty resolute men had promised to 
act, and fifty more were ready to help thein. 

While the trial went on, my efforts continued, and I 
must avow that I met with many weak souls. I will 
mention no names. On the other hand, one of those 
who received me most favourably was Marshal Davout. 
A man of stem principles and brusque military manners, 
this rival for fame of an illustrious warrior showed deep 
and sincere sympathy for his brother-in-arms. Un- 
biassed by the prejudices of the day, he took a humane, 
sensible view of this singular case, and properly valued 
the extenuating circumstances. Davout reassured me, 
and gave me fresh confidence by his calm reasoning and 
logical arguments. But, alas ! only for a moment. 



234 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

As the deciding day drew near, I felt as if I wanted the 
verdict to be put off forever. I counted the hours — 
those hours of mortal anxiety — with trembling. I was 
afraid to look forward. The 6th and 7th of December I 
spent in varying throes of hope and fear. On the 6th 
my friend Belloc came to see me, and, as he went away, 
gave instructions in a low tone to my servants. He re- 
traced his steps three or four times, and finally came back 
and sat with me without uttering a word. I understood. 
It was all over. Ney had been condemned. I burst into 
tears, and wept through part of the night. 

On the 7 th of December, at six in the morning, some- 
one knocked lightly on my door. It was Belloc. He 
came to me, took my hand, and said, with feeling 
such as he had never shown before : 

"My friend — sentence has been passed— he must pay 
his debt. It is impossible to save him. If you wish to 
see him once more, get ready now." 

A cab was waiting below. Belloc, who was very pale, 
made me get in, and then whispered to the man on the 
box. We drove off. I was blind and speechless. But 
on the Louis XV. bridge a current of fresh air striking 
my face revived my spirits. I thought of the marshal's 
daring friends, and repeated to myself, "They will carry 
him off; he will not die. " I thought we should go to the 
Grenelle plain, but the cab drove into the Rue du Bac. 

"Where are we going?" I asked. 

"Leave it to me, my poor friend," was the reply. 

After the Rue du Bac we followed the Boulevard Mont- 
pamasse, and then reached some open lots. We drove 
along the Luxembourg gardens, at the end of which we 
found a line of troops stretching from the railing to the 
Observatoire square. I afterwards learnt that the police 
had been warned the day before of an attempt to be 
made to set the marshal free. It was true that a body 
of our friends were to have assembled, all armed, at 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 235 

Grenelle, where military executions usually took place, 
and where Labedoyere had just been shot. But the gov- 
ernment had selected another spot near the Luxembourg : 
the Observatoire square, opposite a wall that still exists, 
to which I have often made reverent pilgrimages, like 
many other French people. Belloc had been advised of 
the new order too late, Ney was not to be saved. 

It was a gloomy winter's morning. The sky was black 
and low, the weather chill and foggy. A fine, piercing, 
gelid rain was falling with merciless persistence, changing 
the earth to mud, and soaking to the bone the national 
guardsmen who formed the line. It was a mournful 
picture. Soon a dim procession came marching out of 
the fog. In the lead were grenadiers. The funeral 
escort drew nearer, like a sacred host surrounding the 
carriage which bore the marshal. My heart beat to 
bursting. I begged Belloc to let me alight. 

"In a moment," he replied. 

When the carriage arrived close to the spot where we 
were stationed, it stopped. Belloc seized my hand; 
suddenly I was standing on the ground. Everything 
that then happened I saw as if under a flash of lightning. 
Ney got out of the carriage. He was wearing civilian 
clothes : a long dark coat, a white necktie, black breeches 
and stockings, a tall beaver hat with curved brim. He 
uncovered. His slightly raised head showed that his face 
wore a tranquil expression. He looked first to the right 
and then to the left. He caught sight of me. Then, as 
though fearing to compromise his faithful friends by the 
least sign of recognition, he bent his brow downward a 
trifle. He walked on with firm step. At that instant I 
discerned through the mist, in the centre of the square 
of troops, and standing out from the dark background 
of the wall, the firing squad. I tried to rush forward. 
Belloc pulled me back, and forced me into the cab. Then 
I dropped weakly upon the seat. A few minutes elapsed, 



236 MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 

each a whole century long. Then I heard a sharp report. 
I went into a dead faint. 

When I came to I found myself lying on a narrow iron 
bedstead, in a room with whitewashed walls. A sister 
of mercy was by my side. I was being cared for at the 
Maternity hospital, whither Belloc had taken me in my 
unconscious condition. I was still in a very feeble 
state. 

After a space the silence of the hospital was disturbed 
by a strange commotion. The good sister went out, and 
returned almost at once, deeply moved. The marshal's 
body had been brought in to be left in the hospital until 
btirial. 

"He wants our prayers; I am going to offer mine," 
said the sister of mercy. 

I fell into a violent weeping fit. When Sister Theresa 
heard of my long attachment for Ney, she mingled her 
tears with mine at the memory of the hero who had died 
defenceless. She had lost a brother at the battle of 
Montereau, and in her heart she bore love of her country 
and aversion to foreigners and the white ensign. Kind 
charitable soul that she was, she contrived to let me gaze 
upon the marshal's mortal remains. She lent me some 
of her own garments, and so, in the dress of a sister of 
mercy, I went with her to kneel at the melancholy bier. 
Ney looked as if wrapped in placid slumber. 

How shall I say what passed through my mind during 
this silent contemplation? So much glory and so much 
honour gone forever ! He who so often without concern 
risked his life for his country on the field of battle, he 
who in Russia saved so many of his countrymen from 
perishing, now lay before me sleeping his last sleep, 
struck down by French bullets ! Rest in peace, noble 
friend of mine ! Posterity, whose judgment is supreme, 
will vindicate your memory, will listen to your last words: 
■*' My sentence is a breach of faith against treaties, and 



^ ED-8 9. ♦ 



MEMOIRS OF A CONTEMPORARY 237 

I am not allowed to invoke them. I appeal to Europe 
and to posterity!" 

Such were my thoughts in that unforgettable hour. The 
fervour of a loving heart lifted itself up to heaven in 
prayer. Surely it found acceptance. For a great peace 
came over me as I knelt there on the ground beside Sister 
Theresa. She at length obliged me to rise, and took me 
away from the cruel sight. As I obeyed I reverently 
bent my head before the symbol of our faith, and from 
the bottom of my heart came a vow to live henceforth 
according to the religion which granted me the blessing 
of praying for the hero's immortal soul. His martyrdom 
had absolved him from that passing weakness of a glori- 
ous and honest career of twenty-five years. 

Ney, thou illustrious shade, how full of hope were the 
supplications I poured out in the presence of thy spirit ! 
The promise I made in the depth of my sorrow I have 
faithfully kept. My vow has been observed. And, 
holding it sacred, Ida, in keeping before her mind thy 
noble nature, dares to trust that her faults will be for- 
given. 



-THE END. 











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